


A Father's Love

by Mendeia



Series: Fathers and Daughters [2]
Category: Darkwing Duck (Cartoon)
Genre: Broken!Gosalyn, Evil!Negaduck, Gen, Illnesses, Near Death Experience, Poison
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-04-03
Updated: 2007-04-03
Packaged: 2017-11-26 00:45:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 43,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/644694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mendeia/pseuds/Mendeia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An intense drama about Darkwing, Gosalyn, and Negaduck. Can DW save her from Negaduck's poison in time? And what will the experience do to Darkwing?  In fact, what will it do to Negaduck?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Everyday Adventures

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own any of the characters in this story; they all belong to Disney. I am only borrowing them for entertainment purposes, not for profit.

"My dad is totally going to kill me!" Gosalyn moaned as she walked home from school. Honker shrugged.

"If you had studied instead of going out and playing baseball, you might have passed the math test, you know," he said, rubbing his beak where his glasses rested and shrinking back as she glared at him.

"Well, how was I to know that you have to memorize math rules? I can count, can't I? Isn't that enough?" Gosalyn demanded.

"Not for your dad," Honker replied. They had reached the Mallard household, about as inconspicuous a house as one could find in St. Canard, which is exactly why Drake Mallard had chosen it to house himself, his adopted daughter, and Launchpad. Drake Mallard, the secret identity of Darkwing Duck, was as cautious a father as he was active as crime-fighter. And with the same results: criminals winced at his approach, and so did a less than studious daughter. To Gosalyn, age 11, being grounded was preferable to the prison time the criminals served. Gosalyn turned to Honker with a desperate look on her face.

"Honk, you got to tell my dad that this isn't my fault! Why don't you just come inside with me and we'll..."

"No way!" Honker said, stopping at the walk to his own house next door. "I don't want to get in the middle again. Besides, I have to start getting ready for the science project." And before Gosalyn could argue, he turned and hurried into the house.

"It isn't due for five months!" she shouted after him. Then she sighed and grumbled to herself, "Well, it wouldn't have killed him to come in and just help me out, would it? It's so unfair! His parents don't care about grades or how late he stays out. Why is my dad the tough one?" As she opened the door to her own home, however, she felt a rush of peace and gratefulness sweep through her, though she would never have admitted it. Gosalyn had been alone in the world most of her life, abandoned by her parents, and left completely without any family when her grandfather died. Darkwing Duck, in rescuing her from the adventure involving her grandfather's machine, had come to care about her. The adventure had ended by Darkwing adopting her and becoming Drake Mallard, a single father trying hard to raise a spunky duckling. Gosalyn loved her father more than anyone or anything in the world, and combined with that love, she idolized him, secretly longing to be just like him when she grew up, although she would have said herself that she would have more common sense and fewer bad jokes. But the truth was that Gosalyn and her father were a pair, a team, a family, and she would never, ever, have traded this life with him for any other. And although they fought over school, activities, and especially the danger associated with his crime-fighting, Gosalyn knew deep down inside that her father loved her, too.

"Gosalyn!" Drake Mallard's voice met her at the front door, and it was stern, although not angry. Gosalyn sighed and asked, "What did I do now?"

"You, young lady, are in big trouble. I was trying to do some laundry, and when I went into your room, what do you think happened?" Drake was now standing over her, looking stern. He also had a bandage on his head. Gosalyn chuckled nervously.

"You saw my big messy room?" she asked innocently. Inwardly, she was berating herself for forgetting to disarm the booby traps she had set up in the room, largely to keep intruders and blood-sucking aliens out, an idea inspired by the most recent late-late-late horror movie. Gosalyn was practically addicted to old scary movies. Her dad was not as enchanted with them, or the ideas it planted in his daughter's head.

"I saw a boxing glove on my broom headed for my face! And the nets, and trip-wires? Were they just part of your regular mess?" Drake asked, crossing his arms and waiting.

"Well, you know, if any blood-sucking aliens come around while I'm in school, I don't want them to break into my room you know!" Gosalyn argued, and then hastily added, upon seeing the look on her father's face, "They might want to steal my books for school!" Drake shook his head smiling fondly.

"Right, your books," he said sarcastically. "And speaking of school, how was that test, dear?"

"Um...well...see..." Gosalyn rocked back and forth on her feet while the fond look on her father's face melted into exasperation.

"Gos, you've got to work harder on your school work! School leads to college, and college leads to jobs in the real world! There's a lot in school that you'll need later on in life!" Drake had had this argument with his strong-willed daughter many times. Now and again they seemed to end in her actually doing some work, but the rest of the time they ended in fights, or else she gave him a sweet face that he couldn't argue with and got away with doing no homework again. Every time he told himself he'd be stern the next time, and every time he failed at it. He loved her too well, and when she let go with that face, he just melted inside. He tried a new tactic. "Honey, don't you want to be a hero when you grow up?"

"I want to be one now," Gosalyn retorted.

"Yes, well, what you learn in school will help you! How do you think I built the gas gun, the Ratcatcher, or any of the gadgets I use? How do you think I know about science, so I can put together what my fiendish foes are up to? How do you think I know..." Drake looked for another example, "how valuable stolen items are? It all comes from my studying in school!" He patted himself on the back for coming up with a third scholastic tool in his work. He bent down to Gosalyn's level and smiled. "You've got all the instinct and guts any hero ever needed, but until you really learn about the world, you're still going to be behind most of the criminals. Look at Bushroot and Megavolt," he said reasonably, naming two of his greatest enemies. "They were scientists, the best of their day! If I didn't know about plants and electricity, I wouldn't be able to fight them! But I do, so I am, and that is why I, Darkwing Duck, am the hero of St. Canard!" he finished, dramatically standing and looking, in his opinion, very heroic and very studious at the same time.

"Aw, dad, it's so hard!" Gosalyn complained. "Besides, I know all that stuff from you. What do I need school for?"

"Because it's good for you, it builds character, it prepares you for the future, and it's the law. And I think all of those are good reasons," Drake said. "Now, I would like you to go upstairs to your room, disarm those death-traps up there, and start in on your homework. Dinner will be ready soon. I think Launchpad is cooking." At the mention of his occasionally inept but always determined sidekick, he grinned at her. He bent down again and said in a quiet voice, "Better get that work done now. If this dinner is like his last attempt in the kitchen, we'll need to go out after the kitchen catches on fire."

Gosalyn giggled, and Drake kissed her on the forehead before shooing her upstairs. She went, grumbling about homework being stupid, but secretly relieved. That was rather a good fight, all things considered. Neither of them had said anything they didn't mean, and no one lost their tempers. For once, Gosalyn knew she could come back downstairs to her father's warm smile, not the apologetic worry that consumed him after their more heated debates. Remembering to duck when she opened her door, Gosalyn started in on taking down the traps. The biggest ones, anyway.

 

-==OOO==-

 

In another part of the city, someone else was less contented. Although he physically resembled Darkwing Duck right down to his tail feathers, they were not related, not by blood, anyway. Negaduck was the polar opposite of Darkwing Duck, from the Negaverse, a parallel universe to the real world. And just as Darkwing Duck was a hero, albeit occasionally a clumsy one, Negaduck was a villain, and a violent one. Where Darkwing was patient, able to think out a solution, Negaduck tended to turn to more direct, usually deadly action. Besides appearance, the two had only one other thing in common, their hatred of each other. Although Darkwing could think of other villains he loathed and feared much more, Taurus Bulba came to mind, Negaduck was persistent, unpredictable, and ruthless. And was still on the loose, whereas Taurus Bulba was in pieces at the bottom of a river. Negaduck, however, considered Darkwing his number one enemy, and would do anything to get at him.

Negaduck paced the floor of his hideout. Whenever he got tired of walking, he would stop and throw knives into the picture of Darkwing he had up on the wall for target practice. Like Darkwing, he liked to talk aloud, although not in narrative form.

"It's been weeks since I had a good time in this city! All because of that Dumbwing Dork. He foils all my plans, and he does it so badly! He's just a jerk in a purple suit who hasn't figured out yet that he looks like a ninny! Why does he keep getting in my way?" Negaduck glared at the picture that used to resemble Darkwing Duck, but now was little more than shreds of paper held to the wall by knives. He sighed and sank into a chair.

"If only there were a way to get him off the streets, to keep him out of my way. But how? I can't capture him! I've tried! That dumb sidekick or that little girl help him out every time. He's either the luckiest bird in the city or else..." Negaduck stopped as some things came together. He stood up to pace again.

"The sidekick I understand. Lunchbag the pilot is dumber than rock and twice as dense. He follows Dipwing around because that's what sidekicks do. But that little girl, I've seen her before. The others have told me about her, too, a little girl that follows him around and gets herself in trouble. And he, being the hero, always goes out of his way to rescue her. I wonder..." and a very dark, very evil plan began to form in Negaduck's mind. He crowed with triumph.

"Let's see that Darkwing Dodo get out of this one! Either he goes along with me, or he is going to be very sorry. Now, to get busy!"

 

-==OOO==-

 

"As night falls, the Masked Mallard surveys the city, searching for signs of serious suspicious situations, keeping a keen count of crimes, expecting especially extreme enemies anywhere."

"Anything happening, DW?" Launchpad asked, coming up to stand next to his partner. Darkwing Duck had been on the bridge, carefully scanning the city for any signs of trouble in the night. He sighed.

"Nothing. It's too quiet, Launchpad, and it makes me about as queasy as...er..." he had been about to say, "the dinner you made" but quickly thought the better of it and finished lamely with, "as queasy gets."

"Well, that's a good thing, isn't it?" Launchpad asked enthusiastically. "I mean, if there's no trouble, it means everybody is safe and sound, right?"

"Wrong, LP. It means that something big is going to happen. Every fiber in my body is telling me that the criminals are waiting for something. That somewhere a fiendish fatal foe is forming a..." Whether Darkwing stopped because he couldn't come up with the next word in his train of alliteration, or whether it was from a sudden flash of his crime-born instincts, the point soon became moot. There was a grand explosion from somewhere in the city that shook the ground.

"Let's go, Launchpad!" Darkwing shouted as he sprinted for the Thunderquack.

"But DW, that looked pretty big!" Launchpad shouted as he jumped into the plane and began taking off.

"I know it, LP, but you know what I always say," Darkwing said, a gleam of excitement and danger growing in his eyes. "Let's get dangerous." As the Thunderquack took to the sky, locating the source of the explosion became even easier. Heavy smoke, turned bright yellow and orange from a fire below, billowed out of a large building near the industrial sector of the city. Sirens were blazing, but the police were holding people back. It looked like they were waiting for the fire to cool before sending in any firefighting units.

"I wonder if there's flammable stuff in there," Launchpad wondered idly as he moved the plane in closer.

"LP, don't say things like that! You know what always happ...ans!" Darkwing shouted as a major explosion rocked from below and the plane dipped sideways. The sudden force of the explosion knocked them off course and nearly out of control. In an effort not to actually land the plane into the flaming building, Launchpad crashed the Thunderquack rather thoroughly into the roof of the neighboring warehouse. Darkwing Duck climbed slowly out of the plane mumbling something about "sorry grandma but I didn't mean to borrow your couch" until he shook his head and cleared his thoughts.

"Launchpad, why don't you stay here and see if you can repair the Thunderquack. This is a job for Darkwing Duck!" And before Launchpad could say another word, Darkwing was on his way to the burning building, although what he intended to do, Launchpad could only guess. He turned to the broken plane bits scattered about and started trying to make the plane flyable again.

In the meantime, Negaduck was clambering around in the burning building, having set the fire himself to get everyone out of his way. Besides, he enjoyed watching places burn down. However, it was not part of his brilliant plan to be caught in the fire himself. If only he could just find the right room with the right compound...

"I am the terror that flaps in the night!" came a voice from a nearby window. Blue smoke filled the space and Negaduck groaned.

"I am the splinter that won't come out of your finger!"

"Not him again," Negaduck complained, pulling his gun. "I'm not ready for you yet, duck!"

"Oh, yeah? Well I am..."

"I know, I know, Dorkwing Schmuck," Negaduck interrupted him. Darkwing appeared in the smoke, looking slightly dejected and very annoyed.

"You may steal my entrance, Negaduck, but that will be the only thing you steal tonight!" he announced gallantly.

"Oh, like I'm really scared," Negaduck mocked him. He raised his gun, but Darkwing was faster. Up came the gas gun.

"Suck gas, evildoer!" The cartridge that exploded was full of laughing gas, but Negaduck wasn't in a laughing mood. He vacated the smoky area quickly, holding his breath. Racing down the hall, he cursed under his breath, knowing that as soon as the gas cleared, the so-called hero would be after him. He pulled on a nearby door and ducked into the room. Looking around, he swelled with triumph.

"Well, well, here you are after all," he said in his grating voice to a lab full of beakers and test tubes. Rapidly, he moved over to a particular shelf and started examining the contents of each glass container.

"Hey, where'd you go, Neggy?" Darkwing called, and started banging open the doors in the hallway. Negaduck knew he only had a minute or two before Darkwing came into the lab, so he sped up his search. Finally, he located the particular compounds on his shopping list, and stowed them in his suit. He moved towards the window as Darkwing came into the room, gas gun at the ready.

"See you around, Warkding!" Negaduck shouted as he jumped out the window himself and disappeared. Darkwing ran over to where he had been before, but saw nothing.

"I wonder what he was after..." Darkwing mused. The smell of smoke reminded him that he was in a building that was on fire, after all, and he decided it might be a good time to go and check on Launchpad. With a final sweep of his cape, he made a heroic exit and left the lab without really examining it thoroughly.


	2. Evening and Morn, So It Goes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own any of the characters in this story; they all belong to Disney. I am only borrowing them for entertainment purposes, not for profit.

After making sure everyone had left the building in time, Darkwing was just as glad to finish patrolling the city and heading for home. Crawling around in a burning building full of explosive chemicals was not on his list of favorite things to do. In fact, it was on his list of things to avoid whenever possible. And, he deduced, there would be no more activity from Negaduck that night, as it always took a villain more than one night to gather all the ingredients to an evil plot. Darkwing was in the process of explaining this to Launchpad when they returned to the house via the blue armchairs.

"See, I know he's up to something, and he knows I know he's up to something, but that isn't enough. A real hero knows his enemies, and I know Negaduck like the back of my...well he practically is the back of my hand, but never mind that. He only has two M.O.'s, either blow everything in sight to smithereens at random, or slowly and steadily plan out a dastardly deed. Which is why I know he won't do anything else of note tonight," Darkwing concluded, taking off his hat and cape as he moved towards the kitchen for a snack.

"But, DW, he did blow something to smithereens! I mean, that building," Launchpad pointed out, reaching for a huge salami and pickle sandwich.

"I know that, LP, but the fact is that the fire was just a diversion." Darkwing, now fully Drake Mallard, pulled his shoulders back in one of his more prideful heroic stances, the kind he always hoped the newspapers would get a shot of, someday. "He was really there to steal something from that warehouse. I don't know what it was, but I'll find out, and then, I should have a pretty good idea of what that nasty nefarious negaverse nincompoop is up to!"

"Oh," was all that Launchpad had as a reply. Then he asked, "How will you know that?"

"Becaaaaause," Drake said in an exaggerated patient voice, "that's what heroes do! They put clues together and catch the criminal before the criminal continues his crime!" Toning it down, he turned to Launchpad. "Come on, when have I not figured out the evil plan of a villain before it was too late? Have I ever let you down?"

"Well, there was that one time, DW, when..."

"Never mind, Launchpad," Drake cut him off. He glared at his sidekick, but the glare faded quickly. He could never stay angry at his friend for long; Launchpad was too good a person, too close a friend, and too loyal a sidekick for Drake to ever find him annoying for long. There were not enough people in the world like Launchpad, and Drake, for one, would have preferred a world of innocent, well-meaning friends with a little more room upstairs than the world he currently defended from darkness. He started to say something, but a huge yawn got in the middle and all that came out was, "Launchpad I'm going too–ahh–whoooo-yaaaahh–huh."

Launchpad looked up and asked curiously, "Is that in St. Canard or will you leave town? I never heard of a street named..." Drake stuck his tongue out and laughed.

"I'm going upstairs to check on Gosalyn and then I'm going to bed. Get some rest, Launchpad. Something tells me it's going to be a very, very bad week."

"Good night, Drake!"

"Good night, Launchpad," Drake called over his shoulder as he left the kitchen and headed up the stairs. Despite the exhaustion pulling at his muscles and tripping his feet on the stairs, Drake never, ever came in after a night of crime-fighting without stopping to check on Gosalyn before going to bed himself. She was nearly always asleep, or pretending to be asleep, and he let her believe she had him fooled. He enjoyed watching her attempts to keep a straight face when he came and sat beside her. More often than not, she unconsciously broke into a small smile, and it charmed him that she could not repress it. He always felt an odd thrill at finding out if she were really asleep or just pretending. That same thrill tickled his spine tonight, as he crept into her room, ducking to avoid the traps she had set and finding them dismantled, he settled himself on the edge of her bed, watching her. Tonight she really was asleep, and his heart melted inside. She was so sweet, so completely innocent, so beautiful. She looked so soft and quiet, he could hardly believe the ball of energy and will she was during the day. He brushed a hand over her forehead, feeling safe at the regular breathing and contented look on her face.

"Gos," he whispered, "I wish I could tell you how much I love you." He would have continued in whisper, but his throat clogged with emotion. Drake was a very verbal person, explaining everything he felt or did. He had always been that way. But with Gosalyn, well, she confounded him, dried up the words that he longed to share with her. Even in her quiet moments when they sat as father and daughter, not opposing teams of "adulthood" and "rambunctious preadolescence," still he struggled to find the courage to tell her what he wanted to, and he found it odd to be a hero who lacks courage in the face of his 11-year-old daughter! He believed this difficulty was because a part of him was still unsure, still nervous about pushing her too hard, even after all the time they'd spent together. She meant the absolute world to him, and he would have given her anything, down to his very life, if she needed it. He adored her with as much fatherly feeling as if he'd really been her father. She was the plug that filled up his empty life, empty soul. And in Drake's eyes, she was the most valuable, beautiful, worthwhile thing he'd ever laid eyes upon.

"Gosalyn, my daughter," was all he managed to get out before his heart filled his throat again. He kissed her softly on the head and laid a hand lightly against her cheek. She sighed and smiled in sleep, looking even more contented and safe, beautiful and innocent. His heart filled and he quietly left the room. Settling into his own bed, Drake drifted into sleep, knowing peace in that small body down the hall. Feeling like life was good, after all.

 

-==OOO==-

 

In another part of town, Negaduck was at work. Darkwing had not been entirely incorrect about Negaduck's plans; he wasn't exactly breaking the law this time. With all the compounds he needed, Negaduck was at work mixing them together perfectly. While not a mad scientist per se, he had enough experience with chemicals in mixing his explosives to know his way around a chemistry set. And with a few good books on hand, a few articles off the Internet, and one or two theoretical studies by prominent scientists, Negaduck thought he had the situation well in hand. He would have laughed maniacally if he hadn't been so intent on getting the measurements just right. Too much in the one and his plans would be foiled almost at once. Not enough in the other and they would be foiled much faster than he cared see happen. If all went well, Negaduck intended to leave himself with a ticket to St. Canard, a "pass Go and collect 200" card, and his arch-nemesis, Doofball Duck, would be helpless. As the midnight oil burned, he worked slowly and carefully. In another day or two, he would put his plan into action. Now, he just needed the so-called hero to stay out of his business for a just a little longer.

-==OOO==-

 

"Dad!" Gosalyn called through Drake's bedroom door. Drake was vaguely aware of some shouting and then a bundle of energy bouncing on his bed, and on his stomach.

"Dad! Dad! Dad! Wake up! I forgot all about it! Wake up! I want you to come! Will you come?" Gosalyn was practically shouting at the top of her lungs, hopping about on Drake's midsection and waving some blue flyer in her hand. Drake tried to take a deep, calming breath, and discovered that he could get no air past his exuberant daughter. He let out a strangled cough.

"Gosalyn...get...off...me..." and when she didn't comply immediately, Drake changed positions slightly. Pushing off the bed, he managed to use a modified kick technique and sent the child sideways off the bed and onto the floor. Gosalyn shrieked as she want through the air, landed with a thump, and was already complaining before Drake was even out of bed.

"Hey, no fair! Just because you're a sleepyhead doesn't mean I should get tossed around like a salad for trying to wake you up!" she bellowed.

"And just because you are impatient, little lady, is no reason to squeeze the air out of my lungs," Drake returned, finding his robe and slippers. "Now, what on earth is all the fuss about that it drove you to use me for a trampoline?" Drake led the way downstairs with Gosalyn close on his heels, jabbering rapidly and excitedly. He managed not to crack a smile, even when she turned her eyes on him imploringly.

"Dad, it's just the most important thing ever! This afternoon is the big roller hockey tournament and I'm captain of one of the teams and we're going to win the whole thing and get our pictures taken and a trophy and everything and maybe a scout will see me and take me up to the major leagues and will you please come and watch?" Gosalyn pushed the flyer into her father's face, and indeed, he saw that his daughter's team, mostly made up of herself, Honker, and Honker's brother Tank, was listed to play. As he went into the kitchen for breakfast, he pretended to think about it. Inside, he was bursting with pride: his daughter, a captain! And she wanted him there! But he gave her no indication of his feelings.

"Well, I don't know," he drawled, sighing. "With Negaduck out there, I've got lots of work to do, and if my daughter sees fit to hop on me while I'm fast asleep, I don't know that I..." but Gosalyn interrupted.

"Oh, dad, please?" she begged, turning her wide eyes to his, full of hope. She really did want him to come. Of course she did the sports because she enjoyed them, but there was always a secret hope inside her that her father would admire her spunk, her spirit, and her obvious talent. She wanted more than anything in the world for him to be proud of her, and she wanted him to be there when she really hit it big. As of course she would this time, because how else could a hockey game go with herself as the captain? At least, that's how Gosalyn saw the situation, and that touch of pride and glory-seeking in her character was very similar to her father's, though she would never think so herself.

"Of course, honey," Drake smiled. Launchpad waved from the kitchen table. "I wouldn't miss your big chance at the major leagues, dear. And, since my date with Morgana was postponed until tomorrow, I'm sure I can squeeze you in between the super villains trying to take over the world. But you'd better get going if you're going to make it to school on time. Besides..." However, they never knew what he intended to say after that, because the Flashquack, the rapid summons from the SHUSH agency, flew in the window, beeping wildly. Drake sighed.

"Why does it always come before I get my breakfast? You'd think the criminals would at least wait for a famous hero to eat before they try and destroy the world," Drake complained, grabbing some toast and his costume as he went out into the living room. Launchpad and Gosalyn followed. Donning his hat, mask, and jacket, and eating his toast, Darkwing Duck activated the computer screen on the coffee table.

"Ah, Darkwing, thank you for replying so quickly," said a very relieved-looking J. Gander Hooter, head of SHUSH, the secret intelligence agency that kept tabs on the various evil-doers in the world.

"What can I do for you, J. Gander?" Darkwing asked, filling his mouth with toast. Gosalyn tried desperately to get her head where she could see the screen, but Launchpad held her back, shaking his head and smiling.

"I need you to come over right away, Darkwing. Last night, one of our major science labs was attacked and burned, but not before your archenemy Negaduck escaped with some very dangerous compounds." Darkwing started.

"I was there last night! So that was your warehouse! I guess I should have known," he mused, spilling crumbs all over the couch. "After all, it was pretty well-stocked for a regular business."

"Yes, and from what Sara Bellum tells me was stolen, we have a very real problem."

"I'll be over as soon as I can get there, J. Gander. You can count on Darkwing Duck!" he shouted as the screen went blank. Launchpad stood calmly by, while Gosalyn practically flew over the couch to confront her dad.

"So you had a fight with Negaduck last night? Keen gear! Did you cream him? Can I go with you? I'll bet he's making blood-sucking aliens with those compounds so he can..."

"Gosalyn," Darkwing held up his hand, "this is very serious business. Now, run along to school. I have to go and see J. Gander. And," he said, turning and striking a heroic pose, "rest assured that the next time I meet Negaduck, I will cream him into next week!" Gosalyn giggled. But before she could open her mouth again, Darkwing interrupted her. "And no, you may not come with me on this case. It's too dangerous."

"It's always too dangerous," Gosalyn complained.

"Yes, it is. Now get going, and at least try to get some work done for school today, huh?" he asked her, leaning down to her level. "I've got my job and you've got yours. So while I'm out there risking my neck, I want to see you in here, risking your pencils, all right?" He smiled and kissed her.

"Do you want to trade?" Gosalyn asked under her breath, but Darkwing didn't hear. He was looking at the couch and the floor in front of it.

"Gosalyn, how many times have I told you about eating in the living room? There's crumbs everywhere! It looks like toast to me, and I'm never wrong, being the deductive genius that I am. I want them clean before I get home tonight, or no TV tonight!" Darkwing admonished his daughter as she sputtered.

"But Dad..."

"No buts, young lady. Clean up your mess. Oh, and have a nice day, dear," he called in a much more pleasant, albeit distracted voice. "I'll see you tonight."

"Sure, dad," Gosalyn muttered, grumbling to herself about how unfair it was to be a kid. She looked up to get a last word in, but Darkwing was already on his way to the blue armchairs. He and Launchpad disappeared into the secret passageway to the tower hideout of Darkwing Duck, and Gosalyn instead turned and ran out the door to tell Honker all about her dad's new case, that he would be there to cheer them on at the tournament, and most importantly, that parents were dumb and kids should have more power. Whether it was the power to watch TV as much as they wanted, the power to be free from being scolded for things not their fault, or the power to fight crime and be heroes themselves was somewhat unclear. However, Gosalyn would have vehemently argued for all three, given a soapbox to stand on. Instead, Honker received most of the ramble as they walked to school together, and just sniffed and stalled for time whenever asked for his own thoughts, for Honker only partly agreed with Gosalyn, as on most things, and as always, didn't want to pick a fight. It was business as usual in St. Canard for the day, but that kind of predictable tranquility wouldn't last for long. In fact, it barely lasted at all.


	3. Poisonous Tidings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own any of the characters in this story; they all belong to Disney. I am only borrowing them for entertainment purposes, not for profit.

The quiet, reserved office of J. Gander Hooter, head of the SHUSH organization, was usually such a predictable, orderly place. J. Gander had always liked routine and order, but there was a fond place in his heart for chaos and the unexpected as well. So, when the blue smoke appeared at the window, announcing the arrival of Darkwing Duck, J. Gander smiled inwardly. Special agent Gryzlikoff, on the other hand, sneered. He did not have the same soft spot for the vigilante duck as his superior.

"I am the terror that flaps in the night. I am the hook that reels you in. I am Darkwing Duck!" Darkwing announced as the smoke cleared, revealing him with a proud, heroic pose and his cape blowing out from his shoulders. He smiled at J. Gander, ignored Gryzlikoff, and flounced into the room.

"Thank you for coming so quickly, Darkwing," J. Gander said, looking out over his desk at the part-time SHUSH agent.

"Whenever danger strikes, whenever evil rears its ugly head, whenever criminals appear that confound and confuse the good authorities that be, that is when Darkwing Duck is there, to aid, to support, and to..."

"To zteal de glory and get in de vay!" Gryzlikoff interrupted grumpily. Darkwing visibly deflated a bit, but then turned on his least-favorite ally.

"Well, Gryz, it's really pretty hard not to be in your way. You take up so much room, I have to wonder how you navigate through such small places, like doors." Darkwing allowed a small smile of victory to slide over his bill, as Gryzlikoff turned very, very red.

"That's enough, both of you," J. Gander interrupted. "I called you here on a matter of urgent business, Darkwing, and it's time you found out about it." He moved over to the door and opened it, gesturing for Dr. Sara Bellum to enter the room. Dr. Bellum was a tall, studious-looking duck who was SHUSH's special science support team all in herself. Besides a tendency to speak quickly and incoherently, she was the best in the business.

"It's just terrible, just terrible!" Dr. Bellum exclaimed as she came in, her folder of papers slipping dangerously as she made her way to the desk. "I'm not sure I can ever duplicate it, and then we're in real danger. At least," she turned to Darkwing and fixed her eyes on him, "you are." There was a moment of silence and then Darkwing exploded from curiosity.

"J. Gander, what on earth is going on here?" The SHUSH director sighed and motioned Darkwing to sit in one of the chairs before his desk.

"Darkwing, last night Negaduck broke into one of our labs," he began. Darkwing nodded. "In the confusion of the fire he set, it was easy for our advance team to overlook the compounds he stole. But when we went back to the parts of the building that remained undamaged, we made a terrible discovery." J. Gander sighed again. He was starting to feel guilty, and worried.

"Are we going to get to the point sometime soon?" Darkwing asked impatiently. Agent Gryzlikoff was about to make a comment, but J. Gander cut him off with a gesture. He nodded to Dr. Bellum.

"Well, you see, the compounds he stole can only be used for one thing. That is, as far as I know," she murmured, checking her sheets. Hearing an impatient cough, she turned back to Darkwing. "Well, anyway, they make a powerful poison and its antidote. The poison must be injected, and it is perhaps the most foul thing we ever recovered from a FOWL hideout."

"Poison, eh?" Darkwing mused. "That's not exactly Negaduck's style. He's really into blowing things up or shooting them full of bullets. But poison? Poison to be used where? On whom?" J. Gander looked up sadly.

"On you. We believe he stole the poison in order to kill you, Darkwing." Darkwing let out a small squawk, but quickly regained his composure.

"Then why steal the antidote? It doesn't make sense, J. Gander. If he wants to kill me with poison, which isn't too far afield for Negaduck, really, why would he need the means to cure me?"

"Two possibilities," J. Gander responded, clearly unhappy with both. "First, he may have wanted to steal the antidote for the purpose of seeing it destroyed. SHUSH had not yet been able to run full tests on either compound, so we only know what they are used for, not what they are made of. Therefore, we cannot duplicate them."

"Not without a sample, at least," Dr. Bellum put in.

"Second, there may be a concern about his link to you, Darkwing," J. Gander continued.

"To me?" Darkwing asked. He was confused. He knew that Negaduck was the absolute polar opposite of himself, the master-criminal from the Negaverse as he was a hero in his own world. His double was another version of himself from a different dimension who had taken it over for his own, and, upon finding his way to the Normalverse's St. Canard, Negaduck had sworn to make it his own as well. It was this common origin, this shared person-hood, between Negaduck and Darkwing that fueled much of his hatred of Darkwing, in fact.

"You see, we have been working on the possibility that Negaduck is somehow part of you. He is not exactly a clone, nor is he a biological relative. He is another side of you bound by the fabric of time and space. Therefore, our scientists have conjectured that it is possible, only possible mind you, that your fates are also linked. Therefore, it may be that one cannot survive without the other. And so..."

"And so if he tries to kill me, he may kill himself!" Darkwing finished.

"Yes, Darkwing," J. Gander continued. "He may be keeping the antidote in order to save you if it turns out that you are so connected. If it looks like he is going to die along with you, it would be in his best interest to give you the antidote and keep on as you have been." J. Gander turned away. The entire topic bothered him. He liked Darkwing very much, respected him as a crime-fighter, and found his tactics and even his attitude amusing. He would readily have admitted that Darkwing was one of the finest heroes he had ever been privileged to know, and the thought of his arch-nemesis having the means to destroy him was not a pleasant subject.

"Hmm," Darkwing mused, looking thoughtful. "That does sound like Negaduck, anyway. He's crazy, but he would like to see me out of his way. But then again, if it looked like his life depended on mine, he's just cowardly enough to give me that antidote." He looked up at J. Gander. "So what is our move now?"

"Now, we wait," J. Gander informed him. "I want you someplace safe. Disappear for a while, Darkwing. The last thing we want is for Negaduck to have a chance to get you with this poison." Dr. Bellum stepped up.

"I have been working on the tests we did manage to run on both compounds before they were stolen, but there just isn't enough data yet. I would need a sample of the poison and the antidote to recreate them perfectly. If he gets you, unless you have the antidote, there will be very little I can do quickly enough to...to make any difference," she finished. The idea that there was a problem she couldn't solve was maddening for Dr. Sara Bellum, but not as maddening as the idea that Darkwing could be in danger. She, like J. Gander, respected and liked the dramatic duck.

"I'll keep that in mind," Darkwing answered grimly. "Is there anything else?"

"No," J. Gander answered, "I think that covers it, although we'll contact you immediately if we learn something new. Now take care, Darkwing."

"Yes, sir," Darkwing answered, almost mockingly. He turned from them to agent Gryzlikoff. "Any advice, Gryz?" he teased. Gryzlikoff was rather uncomfortable. He did not particularly like Darkwing, and he had little or no respect for his work. But it mattered to SHUSH that Darkwing lived, and therefore it was regulatory for him to be at least concerned. He straightened up.

"Go ztay inzide for a vile, Darkving," he answered harshly. "Den de vorld not have to look at ugly face for few dayz." J. Gander gave him a warning look, but let it go. He reached out to shake hands with Darkwing.

"Be careful, Darkwing. Negaduck's serious this time. And there aren't many choices that look good for dealing with it." Darkwing nodded. All jesting aside, he knew he was in danger. For all the danger he dealt with, lived for, and survived, poison was new on the list, and it was something he did not particularly care to run up against.

 

-==OOO==-

 

Elsewhere, Negaduck was scouting out a peaceful-enough looking spot in St. Canard, the elementary school. He had deduced that the little girl that followed Darkwing around was young, not more than 12, he presumed, and so she would still be attending the lower school. Since there was only one elementary school in St. Canard, it was obvious she would be here. He had no idea what time school would let out, so he just waited. Eventually, he was sure, he would recognize her in the crowd, especially given that red hair, and then he would make his move.

"I wonder what that girl is to Darkwimp anyway," he mused aloud to himself. "He's such a glory-hound, she could be the head of his fan club for all I know. He's such a sap. He actually cares about people like that, people who follow him around and think he's so great. He's not! And nobody will think so, not after I get through with him. I'll be head of the charts, and he'll be, well, indisposed, I think." Negaduck laughed for a while. "She'll come out eventually, and when she does, everything will fall into place."

-==OOO==-

 

Gosalyn and Honker were on their way to gym when Honker went flying down the hall. Gosalyn turned at the loud laugh from behind and saw Tank, Honker's older, larger, meaner brother laughing with his friends. Gosalyn's temper boiled; she didn't like seeing her best friend get pushed around, and she liked it even less when it was Tank doing the pushing.

"Look at the dweeb!" Tank shouted to no one in particular. "Can't even keep his feet in the hall. Aw, what happened," he mocked Honker as the boy got to his feet and straightened his glasses, "is life too big for a little boy like you?"

"Can it, Tank!" Gosalyn shouted, getting between them.

"Aw, pipe down," Tank said, brushing her off. Gosalyn raised her hand and got ready to punch Tank right there and then, but a much larger teacher caught her. Before she knew it, Gosalyn was on her way to the principal's office, again. She knew it quite well, all for being rambunctious and occasionally violent in the halls and classes. She sighed. Her father was not going to be happy about yet another call home. Gosalyn kicked the floor as she was led down the hall. It wasn't fair. Nobody really appreciated what she did for Honker, for anybody! Well, she'd show them! And she intended to start with the hockey game that afternoon.

 

-==OOO==-

 

After the meeting with SHUSH, Darkwing had returned home to change. He had intended to keep the meeting secret from Launchpad, but the look on his face must have given him away. Launchpad was a pretty good judge of character, and he had an uncanny sense for when something was wrong with one of his friends. After a little bit of beating about the bush, Darkwing finally explained to his sidekick the subject of the meeting, and all its implications. Launchpad was concerned.

"DW, you've got to stop takin' chances. What if he really does have a poison and he uses it on you? Why don't we go on vacation or something? Gos can say with the Muddlefoots and you and I can just get out of here for a while," Launchpad said reasonably. "We've still never gone out to Club Web, you know..."

"I know, LP, but I've got to stay around. Even if Negaduck intends to lure me into the streets, I don't have to go. But what if some other conniving miscreant decides to take on the city while I'm gone? Besides," he said, changing out of his costume, "I'll be around as Drake Mallard, who has possibly the most boring life in the world, except for his late nights." Drake smiled as he pulled his green sweater-vest over his shirt. He turned back to Launchpad. "No one would suspect Drake Mallard of being Darkwing Duck!"

"I guess not, but I'm still worried," Launchpad said staunchly.

"Oh, don't be such a worry-wart, Launchpad! I'll be fine!"

"If you say so," Launchpad said, although he didn't sound convinced.

"Er, and by the way," Drake said a bit nervously, "don't mention the poison thing to Gosalyn. I don't want her worrying about it, and I especially don't want her trying to help me on this case! Goodness knows what could happen if she got involved!"

"I won't tell her, Drake, but that's another good reason for you to be safe, you know."

"Yeah, I know, LP," Drake sighed a real sigh and glanced towards Gosalyn's favorite spot on the chair. "This job really is too dangerous for someone with a daughter, but I just can't quit yet. Maybe when St. Canard is free of villains I can settle down and be a real, full-time, regular dad for her. Maybe then she won't worry about me so much. I see it in her eyes sometimes."

"Yeah, she loves you, Drake, and she doesn't want anything to happen to you. Neither do I," Launchpad hazarded. Drake forced a smile and checked his watch.

"Well, we'd better get going. The hockey game is going to start soon and I can't wait to watch her play!" Drake led the way out into the car and started off for the elementary school. His thoughts were dark, in spite of the bright look on his face. He did worry about what would happen to Gosalyn if anything ever happened to him. But he didn't want to think about it, not right then, especially when he was trying not to worry her. He bent his thoughts towards his regular life and his regular daughter's regular hockey game and tried to push all worries, doubts, and fears aside.


	4. A Storm Gathers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own any of the characters in this story; they all belong to Disney. I am only borrowing them for entertainment purposes, not for profit.

"And the Mega-crushers have done it again! Ladies and gentlemen, this team has dominated the hockey tournament here today. What a team!" Gosalyn shouted to herself as she successfully scored the tenth goal in the fourth game of the tournament. As she roller-bladed around the gym, most of her teammates just waited for her to do the scoring. And the fact was that Gosalyn Mallard was the best player on the floor.

"Good goal, Gosalyn," Honker said, awkwardly skating up to her side. His helmet was too big and kept slipping down, dislodging his glasses from their precarious perch on his beak. He was a pretty lousy player, actually, although he at least knew what Gosalyn intended to do on a given play; he had played every sport imaginable with her and knew all her moves and instincts. But he lacked the speed and strength to make most of the big plays happen. However, Gosalyn insisted he be on whatever team she played on, and gave him all kinds of help in being useful in the games. Besides, they had had a very small team and had really needed another player. Tank, as goalie, did a lot more yelling than playing, since Gosalyn rarely let the ball off her stick. Besides Honker, Gosalyn, and Tank, they only had a pair of twin brothers, Larry and Jerry, to play defense and their little sister named Lark on the team. Everyone played every minute of the tournament, and by this fourth game, the team had almost no energy left. That is, except for Gosalyn, whose energy seemed boundless.

"Way to go, Gos!" Drake Mallard yelled from the stands. As Gosalyn's team had steadily defeated the other teams, the fan base on the bleachers had slowly dwindled. Now, in the championship game, there were only Drake and Launchpad, the Muddlefoots, and a few parents trying desperately to encourage their downtrodden players. Drake wished he could be sitting anywhere except for next to Herb and Binki Muddlefoot. Although he liked them in general, they had a way of grating on his nerves. Today, however, they were entirely absorbed by the game.

"Look at our little Honker, out there winning!" Herb said proudly. He was all smiles.

"Yes, and even getting along so well with Tank today!" Binki added, not quite able to tell the difference between friendly congratulatory head-scruffing and actual punching. Even Tank, though, was taking the winning game seriously and was happy enough to be in the lead. And he was the best goalie in the school, even if it was partly because everyone else was afraid to approach the goal and get too close to the physical boy.

As the game wore on, Drake couldn't help but watch his daughter's triumph. She really was the team, and it was largely due to her leadership, her strength and speed, and her clever and sometimes surprising maneuvers that she led the team to victory. He smiled to himself, thinking about what a good hero she could make someday. He was proud, very proud of her. But he let it all shine in his eyes and voice; he did not particularly care to discuss it with the Muddlefoots. Gosalyn, however, knew exactly what her father thought of her performance. Every time she looked up from the game, helmet slipping down on her sweaty feathers, she could see her dad there, cheering and smiling, and she knew he was happy with her. That knowledge only fueled her determination and strength, and by the end of the last game, she had scored a record-breaking twenty-eight goals. When the referee came out to award her team their first-place trophies, she could have sworn she saw a tear glisten in her father's eye before he smiled as widely as his bill would allow and shouted for her. It was a very proud moment for her.

After the ceremony, she rushed up to her dad, still on her skates, and practically knocked him off his feet and onto the gymnasium floor with her momentum. He smiled and grunted as she collided with his midsection, but didn't miss a beat. He hugged her tightly.

"Congratulations, sweetie! You were great out there!"

"Aw, dad, it was just a few hockey games!" Gosalyn protested. Inside, she was delighted he had noticed and approved. She snuggled into his arms for a moment more, then jumped back to show him her trophy. He and Launchpad appropriately admired the tall, gleaming award, then congratulated Honker and Tank who had just been separated from a one-way wrestling match by Herb. All the while, Drake's eyes stayed on his daughter's face. He reminded himself not to worry, that things would be fine. He took a deep breath and pushed his thoughts away again.

"Come on, honey. Let's go out to Hamburger Hippo to celebrate!" Gosalyn cheered and went to take off her equipment. Drake politely invited the Muddlefoots, but they went home to barbeque instead. He was more than a bit relieved. Launchpad went out for the car while Drake waited until Gosalyn came back out, still sweaty but just as happy, and they headed out of the gym and to the car. It looked like it would be a good night.

 

-==OOO==-

 

Negaduck was becoming more and more impatient. He had waited all morning and part of the afternoon before most of the children were released from school. Then, trying to keep track of the mass of youngsters, he had determined that the girl he wanted was not among them. He would have given up, except that a blue flier blew up to where he watched from a nearby rooftop. The flier announced a hockey tournament that afternoon. Remembering the girl's spirit, he settled down to wait and see. She might just be playing in that tournament, and a few hours wouldn't make that much difference.

However, when the hours passed and he finally did spot the girl he wanted, something stopped him from making his move. She held a bright trophy, which is what initially attracted his attention, and something in him registered that she must be pretty good if she could win the tournament at her age. But what held him back was actually the person walking next to her. It was a grown duck, probably shorter than Negaduck himself, who looked as meek and kindly as a grandfather. Something about the peach shirt and green sweater, or maybe the fond way he had his arm around the girl, radiated a sense of fatherly protection and love. Negaduck was totally disgusted. The man looked so short, so meek, although Negaduck was forced to admit to himself that he had a good-looking bill. He started talking to himself again.

"That's so sappy it makes me sick! Well, anyway, now I know what time school lets out, and I know she's here. I think I'll wait one more day. Let them have their happy night," he muttered, watching them get into a car that drove up. "It won't be so happy tomorrow." He laughed and moved off the rooftop. However, there was something familiar about the girl's father. And the bird driving the car, although Negaduck hadn't seen him clearly. Something felt familiar about the whole thing. It irritated him, making him even more determined to see his plan take effect the very next day.

 

-==OOO==-

 

That night, the Mallard household was full of yelling. It wasn't, however, fighting. Drake and Gosalyn were playing video games together, specifically, their favorite game, Wiffle Boy. They were about evenly matched, both having quick tempers and fast reflexes, and they were both likely to jump, yell, bounce, and become generally dramatic and active as they played. Most of the yelling was incoherent phrases like, "Come on, get him!" or "Go, go, come on you can do it, gogogogogogo!" Every now and then, the activity would be broken by one of the two yelling triumphantly and the other sinking down complaining about how hard the Wiffle Boy was to beat. Then, of course, there would be a rematch and it would begin again.

Launchpad watched most of the playing. He didn't particularly understand why Gosalyn and Drake liked video games so much, but they certainly seemed entertaining! And it looked like they were both getting a lot of exercise, so he figured they couldn't be that bad for kids, not that Gosalyn needed any more exercise after her day. Launchpad smiled to himself. He had lost track of who was winning and who was losing as the father and daughter played, but he knew that really, they were both winning. He counted himself very privileged to be part of their family, although he was more like a brother or cousin than a son or father to them. But he recognized the family that existed in the house, and that it was as important to both Drake and Gos as it was to himself. They were perfect for each other, Launchpad thought, watching them. They were better friends and family than most he'd ever seen. And he was just glad to be a part of it.

"Dad?"

Launchpad and Drake were both surprised to hear how quiet Gosalyn's voice had gone, especially right in the middle of the game.

"Yes, dear?" Drake asked, a little nervous. It was unlike Gosalyn to change the subject so abruptly, especially when she was winning. But she was quieter now.

"Aren't you going out tonight?" Gosalyn asked. She was a little worried; it was getting late and it wasn't often that her dad and Launchpad stayed home so long in the evening. Of course, she was grateful they were there, for she missed them dreadfully when they were gone. And indeed, the world seemed a darker place when she was alone in the house, but she wondered why they were still home. What could be keeping them there?

"No, we're not, dear," Drake answered calmly, hugging his daughter. The disbelief and skepticism in her eyes encouraged him to elaborate. "I thought I'd spend the evening with you, if that's okay. The police can look after the city for one night, anyway, and it isn't every day my daughter breaks a school record." He smiled.

"Well, then I'm going to get you!" Gosalyn shouted, completely cheered by her dad's answer. She turned eagerly back to the game, but remained sitting against him. Drake smiled inwardly at her; she was easy to please, sometimes anyway, and he was always so glad to make her happy.

Launchpad sighed and went back to watching them play. Sometimes, he thought, it's better to be home than out doing all the good in the world. Sometimes the most important good is right here in front of you, trying to beat you in Wiffle Boy. Sometimes, that's enough, more than enough good to outdo what beating all the criminals in the world would do. Launchpad was sure of it.

 

-==OOO==-

 

"So then, he came up from behind me and got me with his laser gun and I was fried, so dad went ahead and beat him while I was trying to take out the zombie," Gosalyn finished, relating the entire marathon of Wiffle Boy from the night before. Honker nodded. He didn't play video games either, but Gosalyn really liked them and he liked letting her talk. He was quiet by nature anyway, and the walk home from school was long enough to be too much without some conversation, anyway.

"So, do you want to come over tonight and work on your catching?" Gosalyn asked, jumping right from one topic to another, as usual. Since roller hockey was over for the season, it was getting near time for baseball. Of course, Gosalyn had been practicing for months, but she figured it was time to get Honker working out, too. She wanted him on her summer team again.

"Well, I...uh..." Honker stalled. Baseball was one of his least favorites.

"Oh, come on, Honk, it'll be fun!" Gosalyn had to shout to be heard over the roar of an approaching motorcycle. Something didn't feel right, though, and she turned instinctively to see what it was. A flash of yellow and red and black greeted her eyes and she yelped and started to run. "It's Negaduck!" she shouted to Honker, close on her heels.

Negaduck cursed himself for letting her see him, but revved the engines and followed. It wasn't as if two 11 year-olds could outrun his cycle anyway. He came up quite near and neatly reached over and scooped the girl up. She immediately started to kick and yell.

"Let go of me! Let go! Help!" Gosalyn shouted, frightened. The experience had an eerie air of something familiar. The first time she had ever seen Darkwing Duck, he had scooped her up in a similar fashion, although then it had been to protect her. This time, she was quite sure Negaduck had no such intentions.

"Quiet!" Negaduck shouted, turning sharply and heading back towards a stunned Honker. With one hand, he deftly pinned her arms and slung her over the back of the cycle. Reaching into his jacket, he pulled out a rock with a note on it. When he came up along-side Honker, he stopped and threw the rock at his feet.

"Give that to Darkwing Duck!" he ordered, holding Gosalyn up for Honker to see.

"Help! Honker, get dad!" Gosalyn shouted. Negaduck laughed, produced a rope, and tied her arms and legs quickly and tightly.

"Your daddy isn't going to be of any use, trust me. It's that hero I want," Negaduck said, turning the cycle and heading off in another direction. Honker's last vision of Gosalyn was of her slung over Negaduck's bike, eyes wide and still yelling for help. He scooped up the rock and started to run to Avian Way.

 

-==OOO==-

 

"Mr. Mallard, Mr. Mallard!" Honker shouted, banging the front door on his way in. Drake was in the living room, going through some old case-files with Launchpad. Honker didn't miss a beat, but hurried in, talking too fast.

"He's got her and he threw this and you've got to help her!" Honker yelled, bounding over a precarious pile of papers and knocking them askew. Drake looked up, a little annoyed.

"Honker, you're worse than Gosalyn. Now, what's going on that's so important you have to disrupt my carefully coordinated cases of captured criminals?" Drake asked casually. But there was something wrong. He knew it down to every feather on his body, something was wrong. He stood and moved towards Honker. Placing his hands on the boy's shaking shoulders, he asked, "Where's Gosalyn and what is that?" pointing at the rock in his hands.

"Sir, sir, it was Negaduck!" Drake's blood ran cold as Honker continued, "He came by and picked her up on his bike and he threw this at me and said to give it to Darkwing Duck!" Holding out the rock, Drake now saw that it had a note tied to it. He tried to keep his fingers from shaking as he sank down onto the couch holding it. Launchpad came over as well.

"What's it say, DW?" he asked, concerned. Honker came over, too, to look at the note, but Drake didn't notice either of them. All he could think about was his sweet girl, his darling Gosalyn in the hands of that maniacal monster. As he read over the note twice, his whole being shook. Where Darkwing Duck was sure that he could save the day in time, Drake Mallard was truly frightened for his daughter. And in all the times he had faced Negaduck, never had his archenemy sounded so serious. He read the note aloud, and tried to keep his voice from shaking.

"It says, 'Darkwing Duck, Meet me on the roof of the abandoned building at the corner of Stork Street and 5th, at midnight tonight. No theatrics, and do not be late. I have something you might have lost, and if you want her alive and well, your best bet is to obey these instructions. I'm sure your little friend will be feeling quite poorly if you do not show in time. No funny business, duck, or you will be very sorry. Yours, Negaduck.'" Drake stood up, the cold pit in his stomach spreading to his entire body. Launchpad and Honker were watching him carefully.

"So what now, DW?" Launchpad asked, hesitantly.

"We play by his game," Drake said simply, voice and eyes as hard as flint. "He's got Gosalyn, but I'll get her back. I promise, I'll get her back."


	5. The Storm Breaks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own any of the characters in this story; they all belong to Disney. I am only borrowing them for entertainment purposes, not for profit.

Gosalyn struggled against the bonds that held her. Negaduck had tied her very tightly, and her ability to wiggle was severely constrained by the fact that she was perched on a motorcycle. Still, she never gave up, although she had stopped yelling by now, largely due to the fact that the air was pulled from her lungs as they raced along the streets of St. Canard. She continued to fight the ropes that bound her until it drew her captor's attention.

"Stop it, kid," he snapped at her, glaring.

"No!" Gosalyn shouted, making a mighty attempt to free one of her hands. She never saw the blow until he had struck her, a backhanded hit to the side of her head. She cried out in surprise, but kept the tears that rose to her eyes to herself. "He'll never make me cry!" she told herself proudly.

"Stupid kid," Negaduck grumbled to himself, "doesn't know when to quit." He looked down at her and said, "I said stop it. If you don't want me to hit you again, you'd better do as you're told." The hard look in his eyes convinced Gosalyn that he wasn't kidding.

Gosalyn forced herself to take a deep breath. "Think," she thought to herself, "what would dad say?" She conjured up an image of her father as Darkwing Duck and imagined him giving one of his lectures on dealing with master criminals. "When you're in real trouble, don't go out of your way to make it worse for yourself; some criminals are very unstable and the slightest push could drive them too far. If you're alone, go along with them until your life is really in danger. Then, at least, you're probably in good enough shape to try and deal with the situation. If you've been hurt, on the other hand, by acting out against them one too many times, you won't be able to help yourself later." Gosalyn nodded to herself. "Right. Makes sense. Why irritate Negaduck more than I need to? I don't want to get hit again." She had a terrible flashback to her experiences with Taurus Bulba and the moments she had been alone in his company, moments she had never shared with her father. "And I do want to help dad when he shows up to rescue me. Then I'd better help!" she resolved.

Thus strengthened by her train of thought, Gosalyn turned her attention from the ropes that bound her to where exactly Negaduck was taking her. She knew St. Canard quite well, especially from the nights she sat, or snuck into, in the sidecar of the Ratcatcher and went on patrol with Darkwing. She recognized a run-down section of town that was not commonly a place for villains to hang out, just down-in-the-dumps people who couldn't make better rent. Before long, the cycle stopped at a shed next to a shaky-looking apartment building. Negaduck's voice grated on her ears, a combination of sinister intent and triumphant excitement.

"We're here, kid."

 

-==OOO==-

 

The apartment was not quite as bad as Gosalyn had feared. There were rats and bugs everywhere, and she was quite sure a good wind would blow at least one of the walls over, but it wasn't inches deep in trash or covered in blood. Negaduck had carried her up the stairs to the top floor of the building under his arm, wrapped in his cape. Gosalyn hadn't been able to get her beak clear of the thick fabric in time to yell, but from the look of the place, it didn't matter much anyway. Gosalyn guessed that the building was deserted. She was right.

Upon entering his lair, Negaduck had almost forgotten about the bundle he carried. He was so excited about bringing an end to Darkwing Drip that he wanted to shout and blow things up. As Gosalyn resumed her kicking and struggling, however, Negaduck was wrenched back to reality. He had to complete his scheme before he could celebrate, but he intended to party for weeks from this plan.

"Look kid," he grumbled to the girl as he pulled her free from his cape, "you keep kicking me and you're going to lose that limb, got it?" His voice was hard and cold. Gosalyn gulped and nodded. "Good."

Negaduck pulled a nearby chair over and firmly fastened Gosalyn to it, adding more pieces of rope until the duckling could barely move a feather. She glared up at him with defiance in her eyes.

"Darkwing Duck is going to stomp you into dust, Negaduck!"

"Oh, you think so?" he replied, laughing.

"Yeah!" Gosalyn shouted, jutting her chin out proudly.

"Well, I'm sure he's going to do something, but as long as I have you, little girl, he's only going to do what I tell him." Negaduck smiled a nasty smile and a lump lodged itself in Gosalyn's throat.

"He'll get me out of here and then you'll get it!" In spite of her brave words, Gosalyn was becoming more and more frightened. She was a very courageous girl, but something about the calculating look in Negaduck's eyes made her feel squeamish, and she had the terrible feeling that this latest plan was something worse than his usual blow-up-everything-in-sight sort of scheme.

"Oh, no, little girl," Negaduck loomed menacingly over her, "he's not going to get you out of trouble this time. This time, you're in bigger trouble than anybody can help you with. And that's going to make me very, very happy." He continued to loom, his eyes fixed coldly on hers until Gosalyn turned away. She was glad he couldn't see her skin through her feathers; she was pale, and shaking.

"Now, then," Negaduck said conversationally as he moved over towards a table with some test tubes and beakers on it, "would you like to tell me your name?" Gosalyn promptly stuck out her tongue.

"That wasn't very polite, you know," he chided her. Negaduck's voice was soft, almost friendly, except Gosalyn could sense the snake behind his eyes, the danger in his gentleness. Watching him, seeing the reflection of her own father in his features, she shuddered. He was so like Drake Mallard, her wonderful father and hero, but twisted and dark everywhere her father was good. Negaduck himself was a perversion of all the security and love Gosalyn had ever known. It frightened her. Of all the villains Darkwing Duck ever fought, save Taurus Bulba, none frightened her the way Negaduck did, although she never told her father that. She could no longer look at him, so she turned away instead, trembling and wishing her father would come.

"Now, now," Negaduck continued when she did not answer him and looked away, "if you don't tell me what I want to know, I may be forced to hurt you." His eyes were hard again, and he seemed to be holding something behind his back. Before Gosalyn could get a good look at it, however, he swiftly moved so that he was partly behind her; she could only see his face and half of his body, the half he was leaning over her. "Tell me your name," he demanded in an icy voice.

"G—Gosalyn," she stuttered softly. Her head still ached a bit from where he had struck her before and she did not want to get hurt again. Not again.

"Good," Negaduck crooned. "Now hold still, Gosalyn," he said, pronouncing her name as though it were an insult. She felt him pulling at the ropes at one of her arms and felt a sudden sharp prick.

"Hey! That hurts!" she shouted, the pain awakening her rebelliousness in place of her fear. She saw Negaduck moving back towards the table, and realized he was holding a syringe. A cold sweat broke out under her feathers. "What did you do to me?"

"Oh, nothing at all," Negaduck said, this time near glee. "I just caught myself a hero, is all." Gosalyn barely heard him, however. She felt dizzy and it was hard to hold her head up. As she felt her cold sweat get warmer and heavier, she started to panic. Breathing rapidly, she looked around for a way out, for anything. Her blurred vision latched onto a flash of purple. Straining her eyes, and her energy, Gosalyn managed to force her eyes to focus on the color and make out the image before losing herself completely in a dead faint. It was a picture of Darkwing Duck, ripped to shreds by knives.

 

-==OOO==-

 

"This is terrible!" Darkwing shouted at no one in particular as he paced the floor of the Audubon Tower. "My daughter's been kidnapped by my arch-nemesis and I can't find any clues!" He hopped around, near to screaming with frustration and impatience, and deep down, worry. "The note was written on store-bought paper from the store right next to the elementary school, which is also where the pen came from. The rock was just a piece of the sidewalk that was dug up when the school decided to re-do its landscaping. And I looked all over the store and the sidewalk where they came from and nothing! Not one crumb, one speck of evidence. And no big footprints, either!"

"Well, Negaduck's feet aren't that big," Launchpad put in from where he watched Darkwing pace. He laughed half-heartedly; he was worried, too.

"How can a villain steal a child in broad daylight and not be noticed by anyone in this entire city?" Darkwing shrieked, turning to look out one of the big windows of the tower that faced St. Canard. He sighed and crumbled, numbly resting his head on his hands and staring out at the city he so loved. "She's out there somewhere, and Negaduck could do anything to her, and I don't even know where to look! What kind of a hero am I, anyway?"

"Aw, now, it's not that bad," Launchpad said encouragingly, moving to stand beside his partner and friend. "Gos is a strong, smart kid. She'll be all right. And I think she thinks you're a pretty good hero. Even if you don't find her by midnight, you have to find her at midnight, right? Or around midnight, or something..." Launchpad petered off. He shrugged to himself and tried to smile for Darkwing. "Look, DW, you know this city better than anyone, but that doesn't mean you know everything. I mean, if you knew everything, you could..."

"Launchpad, is there a point to this?" Darkwing asked impatiently.

"Oh, yeah. Sorry," he mumbled. "You know that Negaduck wants to use her against you and you know where he'll be in a few hours. He can't do anything that bad to her until then, can he?" Darkwing groaned and Launchpad tried one last time. "I mean, even if you can't find her yet, you'll find her then, and then you can arrest Negaduck and we'll all go home again. Right?"

"I hope you're right, LP," Darkwing sighed, his heart heavy. She had never been taken like this before, not since Taurus Bulba, and even then, it had only been a short span of time between when he lost her and when he ran to her rescue. It had already been hours and it would be hours still before he could take any action. What could happen to her in those hours? "I have a very bad feeling about this," he said, more to himself than to Launchpad. "A very bad feeling."

 

-==OOO==-

 

As the time wore on, it became harder and harder for Negaduck to avoid looking at the unconscious duckling in his apartment. He had loosened her bonds when he was satisfied she was really out cold from the injection, largely, he told himself, because the angle at which she was hanging in the chair was probably bad for the ropes. He could not help, however, noting how uncomfortable it was to see a duckling's head at that angle. This thought, however, surprised him. It was not the sort of thing to faze Negaduck; indeed, he took pleasure in this sort of thing from others. What was it about this girl that made him feel a little differently? There was something familiar about her, although he didn't know what.

After a few hours of pacing and trying to ignore the tug at his memory, it finally snapped into place. Staring at her outright for the first time, Negaduck realized something about the kid.

"It–It's her!" he said aloud, in a voice tinged equally with wonder and anger.

Indeed, upon closer inspection, it became apparent that this little girl, Gosalyn she said her name was, was identical to the little girl in the Negaverse that lived in his house. The resemblance was uncanny. It was practically the same kid, although this girl didn't wear her hair in the same stupid curls that the one he lived with insisted on.

"She's tougher, this kid," he found himself saying aloud. "Meaner, too, I bet. She's got a lot of spirit, anyway." Then he laughed. "Could probably kick the tail-feathers of half the wimps in either universe. Too bad. Too bad she got stuck with Darkwing Dweeb instead of me. Could have been useful. Ah, but, she will be useful," he reminded himself. Feeling better, he went back to imagining and waiting for his imminent revenge on the Do-gooder Duck, clearing his head of the odd realization. But, try as he might, he could not seem to forget it entirely.

 

-==OOO==-

 

"Come on, LP!" Darkwing shouted as the pilot finished climbing all the stairs of the building specified by Negaduck. It had taken them quite a while to climb up all ten flights of rusty, unreliable stairs, but Darkwing insisted on going that way. Instead of his blue-smoke entrance, he simply opened the door to the roof and stepped out. After scanning the area, he moved into the light in the center of the space.

"Negaduck?" he called. The silence that greeted him froze his heart. Were they too late? Had he scared him off? But then he heard a familiar grunt. Turning, he saw Negaduck standing some distance off, under the light fixture on the antenna. No sign of Gosalyn.

"Good. You're on time," Negaduck drawled. He looked more self-satisfied than Darkwing had ever seen him.

"Where's Gosalyn?" Darkwing demanded, stepping forward. His heart was in his throat, but he tried to be heroic and strong. Inside, he was more afraid than he'd ever been before. Negaduck smiled again.

"Why, she's right here!" he said. Pulling a hand from behind his back, he held up the duckling. But the sight of Gosalyn, instead of giving relief to the crime-fighter, stopped him in his tracks. He heard Launchpad behind him give an inarticulate low moan. Every bone in Darkwing's body seemed frozen, cold, and stiff. His heart barely beat. He stared at his daughter.

Gosalyn was hanging limply from Negaduck's hand. She appeared to be unconscious and had a small welt showing on one feathered cheek. That, however, was not what frightened Darkwing so. Gosalyn was sick. Even at that distance, he could see that her feathers were matted, tinged with brown, and appeared to fall out whenever she moved even the slightest, even to breathe. He could see sweat running down her bill and making a puddle on her purple shirt. And any father could have heard the ragged, gasping, desperate breathing of his daughter. Negaduck held her by the back of her jersey, and by the way her body shook with every intake of air, it looked as though she were weaker than any baby.

"What's the problem?" Negaduck teased. "Isn't she pretty enough for you?" He was enjoying himself so much, watching the emotions of fear, anger, hurt, worry, despair, and hopelessness chase each other across Darkwing's face. He wanted to make the moment last as long as he could.

"What–what did you do to her?" Darkwing demanded, his voice weak somehow, deflated.

"I poisoned her," Negaduck responded simply. Seeing recognition dawn on his enemy's face, he continued, "Come on, you didn't think you were the only possible target for my robbery the other night, did you? How dumb can you get?" He broke into a long train of maniacal laughter. As he laughed, Gosalyn swung from his hand, her head bobbing at a strange angle.

Darkwing was too far into shock to take Negaduck's teasing to heart. The hero was practically gone, melted away in the face of someone tormenting his daughter. Drake the dweeb was all there was left, and he was as powerless as Gosalyn.

"Here's the deal, hero," Negaduck said snidely, snapping back to business. "She's been injected with a poison that you can't trace. Try it if you dare," he said, smiling sickly. "If you want to save her life, we're going to play by my rules. And they are fair, duck. All too fair."

"What do you want?" Darkwing asked weakly.

"Just this. Every night at midnight, you will meet me here. Every night, I will give you a small dose of the antidote to the poison. And in return, you stay off the streets. If I even hear of a stove that starts smoking, I won't show up. I won't give you the antidote. And she'll die." He let those words hang in the air for a moment before continuing. "Get it? If you don't show your face on the streets and let me and my guys do whatever we want all day and all night, I'll give you the antidote, bit by bit. And she'll live, I think." Darkwing's beak was gaping open in shock and dismay. Negaduck enjoyed it.

"Oh, and one other thing," the villain said, "the poison is very potent. In fact, I don't think she can live more than 48 hours without one of my doses. And the doses are very small, so small that even spilling a few drops could make the difference." Darkwing looked to totally deflated and devastated, Negaduck wondered why he hadn't thought of such a brilliant plan before. "So, you see, if you try and replicate the antidote, you might take out too much for testing, and then it would be your own fault if she, well, didn't make it. And," he added, loving the continued dejection on his nemesis' face, "just so you know, I injected her with the poison about 6 hours ago. I won't give you the first antidote until tomorrow night. I want you to see how serious I am. With 30 hours of poison in her, I think you'll see that I'm being quite reasonable."

"Reasonable?" Darkwing asked, his voice low and husky, somewhere between tears and fury.

"Of course," Negaduck replied almost sweetly. "I'm giving you the chance to be the hero. We're both bound by this, of course. You catch criminals by day or night, I don't give you the antidote. I don't show up when you've been a good boy, and you can go back to busting me when she's dead. Isn't that fair?" He lowered his voice to a growl. "We're in this together, old friend. Leave me alone, and she'll live a while. What other choice do you have?"

Darkwing felt like his entire world was crumbling around him. He couldn't even lift his head to face Negaduck. "I don't have one," he mumbled. Negaduck crowed with laughter and triumph. Darkwing stared at his daughter, a mixture of all the extremes of worry and guilt and fear and something deep that could not be identified swimming in his heart.

"I'll see you tomorrow, then, chum!" Negaduck shouted happily, smiling widely. He placed Gosalyn on the ground, rather gently, and strode off into the night, whistling.


	6. Bedside Manner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own any of the characters in this story; they all belong to Disney. I am only borrowing them for entertainment purposes, not for profit.

Darkwing's shock wore off as quickly as it had come. One moment, Launchpad saw Darkwing right next to him, staring open-beaked at Gosalyn. The next, faster than he could blink, the hero was on his knees before the prone body of his daughter. He hurried over himself, at a loss for words, and for once, his sunny disposition and hopeful mentality was truly devastated.

Darkwing carefully wrapped his arms around his daughter, gently pulling her against him. He gently cradled her head against his chest and stared at her. The usually active duckling, full of spirit and energy, seemed entirely gone. Gosalyn's body was trembling, and under her browned and dry-looking feathers he could feel a great fever raging through her small body. Rivers of sweat dripped from her beak down her throat and onto her jersey, and the sweat had the smell of blood and illness in it. Her red hair was also damp, and her pigtails, usually so perky and cheerful, hung limply against her head. But perhaps the worst of it all was the raspy, desperate breathing that seemed so difficult for the duckling. Every inhaling breath was a fight for air, and every time she exhaled a small cough followed, which flung the warm droplets of her sweat and some of her loosened feathers onto Darkwing's coat and knees.

"Gos?" he whispered hesitantly. His voice sounded of disbelief and shock. Another ragged breath, somehow more painful than before, shook the child, and then her eyes batted open. The brilliant green hue of Gosalyn's eyes was the same, but her eyes were cloudy, unfocused, and somehow dimmer than ever Darkwing had seen them. She looked at him, as if struggling to see through a deep darkness.

"Dad?"

The sound went right to the hero's heart. He had heard fear, anger, worry, and every degree of emotional distress in his daughter's voice before, but never this, never this weakness, this deathly soft whimper that passed through her beak. He could even hear the air beneath the sound of her voice rasping along, a terrible countermelody to her own melancholy voice. Something inside of him crumbled then, but he did not show it. Looking into her wondering, fearful eyes, he somehow produced a gentle smile, his eyes full of love and comfort. Never had he been so tender with his daughter before.

"I'm here, Gos," he whispered gently. She tried to speak again but her voice caught on a cough. Darkwing shushed her, "Don't try to talk, honey. It's all right. I'm with you now. You're going to be just fine. I'm going to take you home now, all right?" Gosalyn managed a slight smile with her beak, but it was so subtle only her father could have noticed it. Her eyes fluttered closed again and he felt her whole body sigh into his arms, as if now she felt safe. He closed his eyes.

Her face was all he could see in the darkness of his mind. It was like a projection superimposed over a photograph: he could see her healthy, smiling face from the tournament the day before, and in front of it the sickness that now claimed her. He was filled with conflicting emotions. Certainly fear and worry, anger and hatred burned within him, but there was also a deeper sense of guilt. His daughter, the most precious thing in his life was brought to this because of him. Somewhere, beneath the extremes of anger and fury, of fear and worry and pain, there lighted a spark of remorse and regret, for failing her. However, this spark was nothing compared to his need, his unquenchable need to protect and heal her. He tightened his arms about her and rose carefully, opening his eyes.

Launchpad looked grey. Never before had Darkwing seen his sidekick look so upset, so hurt. There were tears on his cheek-feathers and his eyes were wide and worried.

"What now, DW?" Launchpad asked, confusion and pain in his voice.

"We take her home, LP," Darkwing said. His voice was as gentle as a lullaby, but somehow Launchpad could sense something steely behind it. He felt somehow comforted; Darkwing had never failed Gosalyn before. He would set it right. Launchpad was sure of it.

-==OOO==-

 

The trip home was one of the strangest and most dire experiences of Darkwing's life. He determined that he could not hold Gosalyn and drive the Ratcatcher at the same time, and he dared not put Launchpad in charge of steering a motorcycle, so he entrusted his daughter to his sidekick. Somehow, as he had handed her down from his seat on the cycle, he felt a certain degree of safety. Launchpad cared for Gosalyn as much as he did, so he would at least protect her. Darkwing also took off his cape and wrapped the duckling in it for warmth. She looked no better, but he could have sworn her face relaxed a bit at being enfolded in the garment.

Never before had he driven so carefully through the streets of St. Canard. Never before had he stopped at every stop sign, kept his speed so far below the allowable speed limit, and ignored any and all crimes he saw as he passed. He ignored a mugging, a jaywalking, and a litterbug. None of these were worth even a few moments of his time, not when Gosalyn was so ill beside him. He pressed on.

About half-way to Avian Way, he abruptly turned around.

"Where ya goin', DW?" asked a confused Launchpad, cradling Gosalyn protectively against his big chest.

"The house isn't safe for her, LP. Negaduck might know who she is and therefore follow her home. Drake Mallard can't protect Gosalyn now," Darkwing swallowed hard at that statement but continued, "but maybe Darkwing Duck can. We're going to the tower." To himself, he thought despairingly, "it may be the only place I can really watch over her. Drake already failed her. I can't let Darkwing do the same. Although what I can do now, I just don't know."

 

-==OOO==-

 

Morgana Macabre was very angry. She had been stood up again for her date with Darkwing Duck. It happened about once a month that the crime-fighter would simply forget that he was supposed to be at Morgana's restaurant for a late dinner and go off battling evil somewhere in the city. However, Morgana recalled as she walked along the streets of St. Canard the next morning, he had never, ever not called her later in the evening to apologize. Always before, he had appeared at her doorstep looking a bit like a puppy that has done wrong, eyes big and guilty, beak lowered sadly, shoulders slumped. He always had a wild story as to how exactly he had been waylaid on his way over, and there was often a fight involved, but Morgana always forgave him. Dark could do no wrong in her eyes, well, not when he apologized!

"But this time, nothing!" she fumed aloud as she turned onto Avian Way. "He stood me up completely and I intend to give him a piece of my mind, and a good spelling, too! Maybe I should turn him into a pair of eyeglasses so I can keep an eye on him at all times!" She marched indignantly up to his door, knocked rather politely, as it wouldn't do to unleash all her fury at once, and waited. No response.

"Is there anyone home?" she demanded, a little more angrily than she intended, but there was still no answer at the door, although someone should have been home at this hour. Morgana rolled up her sleeves and prepared to gain entry one way or another when she heard a voice from behind her somewhere.

"Wait!"

She turned and saw Honker Muddlefoot, best friend of Gosalyn and next-door neighbor to her boyfriend whose name was mud if he didn't have a really, really good excuse for this treatment. She tried to smile as the boy ran over, but saw at once that something was wrong. She could have been mistaken, but it looked like Honker had been up all night, and he seemed remarkably agitated.

"Why, what's the matter, Honker, dear?" she asked. He started to blurt out a story but it all went too fast. All she could pick up was something about Gosalyn and then something about needing things from the house. She held up a hand.

"Slow down. Start from the beginning, please," she said politely. She rather liked Gosalyn and her little friend. She didn't want him to be so flustered, but obviously something was really wrong this time.

"Negaduck kidnapped Gosalyn and took her away and when Darkwing Duck went to rescue her he poisoned her and she's really sick and they called me this morning to bring them as much medicine from the house as I could get but I couldn't get away from Tank until now and she is really sick and I have to get to the tower!" he gasped all in one breath.

Morgana was taken aback. Poison? Negaduck? Well, it certainly wasn't his style, but then, she wouldn't put anything past him. She took Honker's shoulder and tried to reassure him.

"Well, let's go in and head over there right away, then, all right?" she said soothingly. She was very worried herself, but hoped that perhaps he was exaggerating. Gosalyn had a tendency to do that, too. She might have been hurt, or even made a bit ill by some kind of gas or something, but she hoped Honker was just acting a bit more dramatic than the situation really called for. However, the thought of anything happening to Gosalyn turned her unusually strong stomach.

Honker produced a key to the Mallard's house and led the way. She waited patiently as he gathered up everything in the bathroom, kitchen, and even Drake's private store of medical supplies in his bedroom in a large bag, then moved quickly to the revolving blue armchairs. Morgana sighed inwardly. She didn't really find this particular mode of travel at all dignified or comfortable, but well, it was fast. When they were both seated, Honker slammed his fist down on the head of the great mouse detective and away they went to the tower.

 

-==OOO==-

 

The tower, their nickname for the Audubon Bay Bridge hideout, was dark, as usual. Morgana rather liked the dark, but Honker felt nervous. It wasn't often he made the trip without Gosalyn at his side. Launchpad's voice on the phone had sounded so serious, so worried. He had to hurry. Gosalyn needed his help! Heaving the bag after him, he moved quickly towards the small light he saw off in the corner.

As he approached, he could see Darkwing, minus the hat, cape, and mask, sitting on a stool next to the bed he still kept up in the tower for really late nights. Launchpad stood nearby. Morgana, striding along beside Honker cleared her throat to get their attention. Darkwing never even looked around, but his sidekick raised his head.

"Oh, hi you guys," he said. It was supposed to sound cheerful, but instead, it sounded like Launchpad was more tired than he'd ever been before. Morgana, much taller than Honker, looked ahead to see what was troubling them so. She caught sight of Gosalyn, covered in blankets in the bed.

"Oh! Oh, Dark, no!" she exclaimed. The sorceress moved quickly to Darkwing's side and looked down on the duckling, her eyes taking in the entirety of Gosalyn's illness in a moment. Worry and fear crept over her, and also a little anger. Morgana had a fine temper and she tended to use it when her friends were in trouble.

"What—what happened?" Honker asked as he came forward. His eyes were big and he seemed truly afraid. Launchpad put an arm around the little guy. Honker reached out with a hand to touch Gosalyn's exposed arm, only to pull it back with a cry of surprise and sorrow when some of her feathers, brown and brittle, came away in his hand.

"She's sick, real sick. Negaduck did this," Launchpad said sadly.

Morgana looked over at Darkwing. He was holding one of Gosalyn's hands in his own tenderly, but she knew that if anyone tried to separate them they would find his grip like steel. His head was bent only towards his daughter's face and all his being seemed intent on watching her, being near her. Now and again, a shaky breath would escape his beak. Other than that, he was silent. Morgana put a hand on Darkwing's shoulder.

"Is there a cure?" she asked quietly. Darkwing spoke in a low, controlled voice, never lifting his gaze from Gosalyn.

"Yes, I think. Negaduck has it. He will trade it bit by bit to me, if I stay out of his way."

"Will it help her?"

"I don't know, Morg."

Something in the finality, the quiet fear and pain in his voice touched them all. Honker felt tears slip from under his glasses and down his beak. He sniffed. Launchpad led him quietly to another area of the tower, away from Gosalyn's bed. The little tyke didn't need to see his best friend like that.

"Is she going to die?" he asked in a quavering voice.

"Nah. She'll pull through. She's tough, and DW isn't going to let anything happen to her. You'll see," Launchpad said, trying to cheer Honker up. He patted the duckling's head and continued, in as positive a voice as he could manage, "Come on, do you think DW would let Negaduck win? Never! We just got to hang in there and be brave for Gos, okay?"

Honker nodded and tried to speak, but his tears got the best of him. He wished he weren't only 11 years old. He wished he were the grown up scientist he wanted to be so he could help find a cure for her. But even though he enjoyed advanced studies, he knew perfectly well he didn't have the expertise to help this time. This time he, like Launchpad, was helpless. He leaned against the larger duck and shook with tears.

Morgana came over a few minutes later, her eyes wide and troubled.

"She is very sick, and there's nothing I can do about it. All of my spells, none of them can magically cure disease, especially not when it's caused by a poison." As she spoke, she gestured with her hands in a frustrated, angry manner.

"But isn't poison and well, er…anyway isn't that something you know about, sort of…since you like things like that, er…?" Launchpad trailed off and hoped he hadn't offended the sorceress.

"Generally, yes, but you see, I deal specifically with magic. If this poison had been linked to a curse or created by a witch or something, that I could handle," she explained, growing frustrated again, "but this is just science, and I'm afraid science and magic don't mix."

Honker held his head up. He wasn't crying now, nor did he want to start again. He didn't cry very often in general, as it usually meant he would get teased by bigger, stronger kids. But something about seeing Gosalyn so sick, so dangerously sick, had triggered an emotional response even he didn't understand in its entirety. All he could think about was what would happen if she didn't get well. It was a future he didn't want to think about, he didn't want to happen. Not ever.

"Isn't there something we can do?" he asked in a small voice.

"I'm afraid not," Morgana replied. "From what Dark told me, he can't even go outside or Negaduck will destroy the antidote. I don't think he's willing to risk anything." Secretly, she was as worried for Darkwing as for Gosalyn. She had never seen him give up this way, never seen him act so dejectedly, so completely defeated, apart in a way she had never seen him. This was not his usual funk, when he would get quiet and upset over some kind of personal insecurity or confidence problem. This was something entirely different. It worried her.

"Then we just have to wait?" Honker pressed.

"Yes," she answered gently, looking back at Darkwing, "and I think we've only just seen the beginning of this."

 

-==OOO==-

 

It was the longest day of Darkwing's life. From the moment he had carried Gosalyn into the tower until 11:30 the next evening, he didn't leave her side. If it was all he could do, he would do it. He held her hand, spoke softly to her now and again, and tried to suppress the tears that danced in his eyes every minute he watched her. He was barely aware of the comings and going of Launchpad, Morgana, and Honker, although he eventually became aware that they had determined not to leave, either. The day passed in a fog, during which he was only aware of one thing: Gosalyn.

He watched her rest, fitfully, slowly becoming more and more ill. Her fever grew higher, her coughs more frequent and more violent, her feathers more brittle and brown. More than once she struggled to consciousness, only to collapse after swallowing a little water. But her eyes, her once bright green eyes haunted Darkwing every time he saw them. He saw a shadow in them, something that chilled him to the bone. Slowly, as the hours went on, he realized that he was watching his daughter die before his very eyes.

But evening eventually came, and slowly another idea moved its way into his mind, that in a few hours he could get the first dose of the antidote from Negaduck. Maybe, maybe his mind screamed hopefully, maybe it would be enough to heal her a little. Maybe it would hold back this shadow he could see creeping over her as every hour passed and the poison remained in her body. He held onto that hope as the night went on.

 

-==OOO==-

 

Standing on the rooftop only a night since he had last encountered Negaduck, Darkwing's heart was full of fear. He had been so concerned about breaking Negaduck's rules, he had driven in his car as Drake Mallard through St. Canard most of the way to the building, walking the last half-mile through the dark and deserted streets. Already there was evidence of Negaduck's exploits: fires burned downtown and radios offered conflicting reports as to how many banks and businesses had already been hit by the villain. But Drake had ignored them all, walking with his costume under his arm until he was inside the appointed building. Only then did he don the mask, hat, and cape of Darkwing Duck. But there was no pride in him now, as he stood waiting for Negaduck. There was no assurance that good would triumph over evil, not when Gosalyn's life was on the line and all the cards were in Negaduck's hand.

"Hey, duck!" Darkwing heard Negaduck's taunting call from across the roof. He turned to face his arch-nemesis.

Negaduck was taken aback by Darkwing's appearance. He looked, well, terrible. Never had Negaduck seen Darkwing with a hat that looked wrinkled, a cape that smelled funny and stuck to his legs, and a coat that seemed to have funny creases carved into it. Darkwing looked so disheveled. Negaduck's heart soared. It was working!

"So, looks like you've had a nice day!" he said brightly, grinning with his whole beak. "Get out and see the sights? Oh, wait, you can't!" he mocked, and laughed.

"I kept my part of the bargain," Darkwing said quietly. There was no defeat in his voice now. If Negaduck intended to break their deal, Darkwing was fully prepared to do whatever it took to save Gosalyn. He wanted the antidote and he wanted it now. "Where's the antidote?"

"Oh, it's here," Negaduck said gleefully, patting his jacket. He turned away and looked over the skyline of St. Canard, his city now. "Isn't it wonderful having a whole city to yourself? I certainly think so! Didn't you see any of my handiwork today? Blew up every bank in the city, and got lots and lots of cash, too! I never had so much fun!" he laughed again. Darkwing closed the gap between them, ferocity in his eyes.

"Give me the antidote," he growled in a low, menacing voice.

"Oh, all right, here. Just to get you out of my face, not that I will be seeing much of it, now will I?" Negaduck laughed. He pulled a small vial of amber-colored liquid out of his jacked and handed it to Darkwing. The hero took it, stowed it carefully in his own jacket and headed for the stairs.

"Now, don't forget," Negaduck called after him in a sweet, mothering voice, "I want to see you back here again tomorrow. Same time, same place! We'll have a tea party." Darkwing slammed the roof-access door against the grating sound of Negaduck's hysterical laughter and began to run. The sooner he got this to Gosalyn, the better.

-==OOO==-

 

Even all the way up on Audubon Tower, Darkwing could still hear the explosions and gunshots go off as all the criminals of the city somehow started to realize that it was a grand free-for-all. He tried to ignore them as he pulled his hat and mask off as he hurried to Gosalyn's side. Launchpad had filled in for him while he met with Negaduck.

"How is she?" he asked in a strained voice.

"Not good," Launchpad replied softly. Darkwing looked over and his heart broke. Gosalyn seemed to be barely breathing. She was twitching uncontrollably, as if experiencing a minor spasm. The blankets were wet from her sweat.

"Gosalyn," Darkwing breathed. He wasted no time. Launchpad barely had time to vacate the stool before Darkwing was perching on it, holding Gosalyn's head up. "Here, honey," he said in that same loving voice, "this will make you feel better." He began to try to pour it into her beak.

"Mr. Mallard, no!"

"What?" Darkwing almost shouted at Honker as he came running up. Honker waved a syringe at Darkwing and tried to explain.

"It won't be fast enough. If she ingests the antidote, it could take hours for it to get into her bloodstream. You've got to give it to her this way!" Honker was nearly shouting himself. He had watched Gosalyn's steady decline over the day and knew as well as Darkwing that she didn't have a lot of time left. "It's the only way" he said desperately.

Darkwing hesitated for a moment, then took the syringe from Honker's sweaty grasp. He carefully poured every drop from the vial into the implement, then prepared to give Gosalyn the shot. He closed his eyes as he needle went into her leg, as the thought of shots always made him a bit queasy, and released the antidote. Handing the syringe back to Honker, he gave the duckling a smile.

"Thanks, Honk," he breathed. Honker nodded and returned a weary smile of his own. He turned and went off to clean the needle thoroughly so it could be used again. Launchpad followed, leaving Darkwing alone with Gosalyn.

Darkwing watched his daughter like a hawk, hoping for any sign of change. An hour passed, two, and then he started to become aware of the fact that her breathing was a little less labored and her sweating a little less profuse. Gosalyn's temperature fell a bit, as well, and Darkwing breathed a sigh of relief. The antidote was working. Then, quite unexpectedly, Gosalyn opened her eyes.

"Dad?" she asked, in that same raspy, exhausted voice. He bent over her and took her hand.

"I'm here, Gos," he said gently. He placed his other hand on her forehead. "You're going to be okay."

"Dad, I'm sorry," she croaked. Darkwing's eyes widened and he felt tears on his beak.

"Oh, honey, this isn't your fault. You didn't do anything wrong. I'm—I'm so sorry…" he started, but his throat caught on his words and he couldn't finish. He swallowed a sob and continued, "I love you, sweetie."

"I love you, too, Dad," she said weakly. Darkwing busied himself with getting some water for her to drink. She took several sips, then leaned back on her pillows.

"Is there anything you want, Gosalyn?" Darkwing asked gently.

"Sing to me…" she whispered as a cough fought through her beak. Darkwing smiled at her and remembered the song she had taught him, and he had reworded a bit, when the first met. His voice trembled with emotion and his eyes blurred with tears, but he sang her lullaby to her.

> _"Close your eyes, little girl blue._   
> _Inside of you lies a rainbow:_   
> _Yellow, blue red, blue, purple too, blue purple green and yellow._   
> _Rest your head, little girl blue._   
> _Come paint your dreams on your pillow._   
> _I'll be near to chase away fear, so sleep now and dream 'til tomorrow._   
> _I'll be near to chase away fear, so sleep now and dream 'til tomorrow…"_

Looking up at her then, he saw that she had fallen back into the deep sleep that claimed her most of the day.

"I love you, Gos," he whispered to her. Gently he kissed her forehead and settled back on his stool. Now his tears fell unbidden down his cheeks and bill as the last line of that song echoed in his mind. He remembered that adventure with Taurus Bulba, remembered how close he had come then to losing her. He thought of all the times, good and bad, that he had shared with Gosalyn since then, as her father, not just her friend. Oh, he would have traded the world away for her sake! Gosalyn was everything to Darkwing, the center of his life, the meaning of life now. She was everything, mattered more than anything, and he loved her more dearly than he knew how to express. He bent his head, tears streaming down his bill and forming a puddle on the edge of the bed, next to where his hand still held hers as she rested. He gazed down at that little hand, at his tears that splashed it, and up at her ill, struggling little face. All he could do was weep.

_"I'll be near to chase away fear, so sleep now and dream 'til tomorrow…"_


	7. A Change in the Wings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own any of the characters in this story; they all belong to Disney. I am only borrowing them for entertainment purposes, not for profit.

Darkwing felt his eyes slide open. Everything was fuzzy. He felt somehow comfortable and warm, but something was wrong. He needed to be somewhere…

"Gosalyn!"

All in a flash, Darkwing's memory cleared. He opened his eyes wide and found himself seated on one of the blue armchairs, wrapped in a blanket. How had he gotten here? He didn't remember falling asleep at all. But then, he hadn't gotten much sleep of late. Stumbling to his webbed feet, Darkwing made his way back across the Tower to Gosalyn's bedside.

It had been four days since Gosalyn had been kidnapped by Negaduck. Darkwing had kept his end of the bargain and continued to journey to see his enemy every evening at midnight to recover a small portion of the antidote, the only cure to the poison that was wreaking havoc on his daughter's body. Over the course of those four days, Darkwing had barely slept, eaten next to nothing, and had refused to leave the Tower even for a minute. Launchpad, Morgana, and Honker had remained with him whenever they could, bringing him things from home as he required them, making him meals that went untouched, and urging him to get some sleep when they thought he would listen. More than once, over the course of those four days, Launchpad had carried his exhausted partner from Gosalyn's bedside, fast asleep, and tucked him in elsewhere in the Tower. Honker couldn't stay in the Tower as much as he would have liked because of school, but Launchpad and Morgana stayed on alternating shifts, with at least one of them there at all times. They had realized early on that there was little they could do for Gosalyn, so they dedicated themselves to keeping Darkwing healthy and rested. He usually ignored their efforts.

As Darkwing stumbled back towards his the end of the Tower where Gosalyn had spent the last four days in bed, Morgana, who was sitting beside the duckling, looked up. She gave a weary smile. She, like Darkwing, had not been sleeping well these last few days. Before Darkwing could even ask, Morgana answered all the questions she knew were coming.

"Yes, she's still much the same; no, she didn't wake and take any water; yes, she still has a fever, and by the way, it's getting to be time for you to go out," she said gently, reaching a hand out to the crime-fighter. Her eyes were wide and sad. It was terrible to watch Gosalyn in this state. In some ways, however, Morgana thought it was even worse to watch her father. Eating only when he was physically weak from lack of food, sleeping only when his body gave out on him, Darkwing's feathers were becoming yellowed and unhealthy-looking and his beak drooped. "He's wasting away as he watches her do the same," Morgana thought sadly.

Darkwing ignored the hand Morgana offered him and instead moved to Gosalyn's side. The duckling had not improved. Darkwing was starting to worry in a new direction. Of course he had been worried from the first moment he had known she was in Negaduck's power, but as every day passed, a more sinister apprehension began to grow in the back of his mind. The original batch of antidote had revived Gosalyn a bit, lessening her fever and restoring her enough to speak coherently. But the subsequent shots of the potion had seemed to be less and less effective at healing the child. She still had moments of lucidity, and she still wavered somewhere between a burning fever and a mild one, but a realization was growing in Darkwing that his daughter was not getting well. Indeed, she seemed to be growing steadily more ill. And, unlike his previous fears about her safety, watching her the last few days had convinced him that this was not an idle, over-protective father's fear. The possibility that Gosalyn would not recover was slowly becoming a reality.

"She's dying, Morg," Darkwing said in a low voice.

"Well, you'll get the antidote in an hour or so and that will help," Morgana began, trying to sound cheerful, but down deep, she feared it, too. Seeing the look in Dark's eyes, she thought better of her positive comment and instead continued, "but you're right, you know. She's not getting better." She paused. "I don't know how much longer this can go on."

Darkwing looked at Morgana. Her usually well-kept hair was falling around her face in places, as if it refused to stay in its usual neat style. Her eyes seemed larger than usual, and there were dark bags that he hadn't seen before that seemed to be slowly growing across her cheeks. He was dimly aware that she had not slept more than a few hours at a time since the beginning, and looking in her eyes, he saw what he suspected she could see in his own, fear and despair. He turned his face away.

"I know."

"Then, what are we going to do?"

"I don't know, Morg." Every time he spoke, it was more quietly and dejectedly than the last, and that became too much for the sorceress.

"But, Dark, we have to do something! We can't let her…" she cut herself off. No one had yet mentioned the possibility of Gosalyn's death out loud. No one wanted to think about it.

Darkwing raised his eyes to her own again. Morgana could see the war in him between despair and anger, grief and fury. She could tell that he was burning with vengeance as dearly as he was weeping with sorrow. She was honestly surprised he had been so quiet for so long. It wasn't his style to take this sort of thing lying down. She had expected him to go after Negaduck, to stop this cycle before it was too late. Now, she wasn't so sure that the hero could stop him. Morgana wondered if it might not already be too late.

 

-==OOO==-

 

Miles away, on the rooftop of what had once been the Police Station but was now deserted and showed signs of fire, Negaduck laughed with glee. He hadn't been this happy in a long, long time. The first nights of glory had been filled with bank-robbing and jewelry heists, but on the third night he had taken to using certain recognizable structures in the St. Canard skyline as tests for his new configurations of explosives. Taking over the police station was too sweet an experience not to savor. Only once before had everything gone as well, when the Fearsome Five had ruled the city. But then, that group of Justice Ducks had stopped him. Not this time!

"This time, the city is mine and I don't even have to put up with those other idiots!" Negaduck shouted to himself. "And no Just-Dumb Lucks to mess it all up, either! This is great!" His laugher echoed so nicely and effectively off the other buildings in the area, Negaduck kept on laughing until he knew the sound had traveled halfway across the city. There was something glorious in knowing that all over St. Canard, people winced in fear and locked their doors and hid in closets at that sound. He smiled such a smile that his beak had to stretch to accommodate it.

"This is working out better than I ever could have imagined," he said to himself, passing down from the roof and into the Police Station proper, where he had made his new headquarters in the Chief of Police's office. "Darkwuss is out of my way, the police are history, and I'm the most powerful, most feared duck in the city!" Looking around the office, Negaduck spotted the beaker with the antidote, his hold over Darkwing, sitting on a nearby table. He moved closer and examined it with a serious eye. It was only half full now.

"Hmm. I better stretch this thing out again or else my fun is going to run out before I'm ready to let it." He took the beaker and carried it over to the sink. Almost humming to himself, he ran some water into it until it looked full again. "There! That ought to do it!" As he returned it to it's place, he wondered what the effects of diluting the potion the last two days had had on the duckling it was intended for. She was probably not looking so hot. Negaduck shook the thought off.

"Aw, she's a tough kid and besides, the sicker she is, the less likely that hero is going to try anything funny!" But somewhere inside, Negaduck was becoming aware that he couldn't dilute the potion forever, that he would eventually have nothing at all to offer Darkwing, assuming that the girl even survived that long. But he brushed that out of his mind. He'd blow up that bridge when he biked over it. For now, it was time to have some more fun.

 

-==OOO==-

 

The next morning, a loud whirring noise brought Darkwing out of his quiet, near-sleep state as he sat holding Gosalyn's hand. The shot of the antidote from the night before had woken the child about four hours after it had been administered, and after a half a glass of water she had collapsed back into fitful sleep. Darkwing had noticed that over the last day or so, she had seemed more restless in her sleep, as though having nightmares or being unable to rest deeply. It worried him. He knew she should be sleeping more, getting hours and hours of deep, unconscious sleep that would aid in healing her of the poison. The fact that now it seemed increasingly as though she could not get that deep sleep meant that her only way of fighting off the poison between shots was eroding. Darkwing had no idea what to do about it.

The whirring became louder and Darkwing felt a sharp whack on the head from something hard. Turning, he found himself face to beak with the Flashquack, SHUSH's messenger to him. It madly printed out a little sheet, which said, "Contact SHUCH immediately." Darkwing groaned. He didn't want to leave Gosalyn for a minute, but he really felt that J. Gander Hooter deserved some kind of answer. "He might think I'm dead of Negaduck's poison," he thought, and a part of him wished he had indeed been the villain's target instead of his daughter.

"Launchpad?" Darkwing called half-heartedly. The pilot jumped from where he had been sitting across the Tower and practically ran over.

"Yeah, DW?" he asked anxiously. Looking at his partner, Launchpad could see that Darkwing's vigil was really taking its toll on him. The simple duck worried about them both more than he knew how to deal with. He only wanted everything to be all right again and for DW and Gos to be a happy family again.

"Look, can you sit with Gosalyn for a minute, LP? I've got to take this," he said, wearily gesturing at the message. Launchpad nodded and took the chair at the bedside. Darkwing transferred Gosalyn's hand gently over to his partner, glad of his company. He leaned down to whisper in her ear.

"I've got to go away for a bit now, Gos, but I'll be back. Launchpad will be here if you need anything, sweetie. I love you, my daughter."

As he walked over to the computer console, Launchpad could see something in his gait that he didn't like. It wasn't exhaustion; he had seen DW exhausted before, but this wasn't the same stumble. It was hard to figure out. He just didn't seem to be as tired anymore. It was more like he was so unhappy that he couldn't quite wake out of a fog of some kind. But as to what fog, well, Launchpad could only sympathize.

 

-==OOO==-

 

"Darkwing? Darkwing, is that you? Are you all right?" asked J. Gander. He had been glad to get a transmission from the hero, but he was shocked at his appearance. The head of SHUSH wondered if maybe his worst fears had been confirmed. Darkwing looked so unkempt, as though he hadn't had rest or food for days. The masked crime-fighter's face looked haggard and there was something in his eyes that even J. Gander shied away from looking at. It was too terrible to see that darkness in his friend's eyes.

"Yeah, it's me, J. Gander. What do you want?" Darkwing asked. He wasn't being insolent or rude; it was weariness.

"Well, er, I just wanted to know what was going on," J. Gander said, trying to return to professionalism. "You know, Negaduck is tearing up the city and you haven't been seen in days, so I wanted to know why you weren't out there, dealing with him." Darkwing sighed.

"No, I'm not poisoned," Darkwing said with such resentment that the SHUSH leader was surprised, "but I can't do anything about Negaduck. You better find some other hero."

"Wha-what do you mean?"

"I just can't do it," Darkwing said, his frustration starting to show.

"Well, I just don't understand. I mean, you don't appear to have suffered the effects of the poison he stole, although I must say I've seen you look healthier, so I can't imagine what can be keeping you from going out there to stop him before he destroys the city!" J. Gander would never have admitted it, but he felt rather betrayed by Darkwing. How could a hero let so many innocent people down in their time of need?

Something in Darkwing snapped. It was the same thing that had angered him every single night when he endured the torments of Negaduck, who exalted in the whole situation every chance he got. It was the same thing that Morgana and Launchpad had seen at different times in his eyes. And whatever it was that snapped, it snapped loudly enough for Launchpad to turn in surprise all the way across the Tower.

"I CAN'T!" Darkwing roared, jumping to his feet, his eyes flashing and his beak pulled in a nasty snarl. "That-that blackguard didn't use that potion on me, for all I wish he had. He used it on MY DAUGHTER!" Taking a breath and continuing, this time in a snarling voice that neither he nor J. Gander knew he could make, "And now he's got me trained like a puppy, bound to leave him alone in return for bits and pieces of the antidote, and meanwhile, she's DYING and there is NOTHING I CAN DO!"

J. Gander was taken aback. Slowly his mind came to several realizations: that Darkwing had a daughter, which he had not known, that Negaduck had used the poison and antidote in a manner far more villainous than any he had feared, that Darkwing seemed powerless to stop him, locked in a high-stakes ransom game with the scoundrel, and that Darkwing was more emotional and furious over it all than he had ever known the hero could be. Before his eyes, over the video screen, Darkwing crumpled into the chair again. Where there had been rage and hatred and frustration before, now it was replaced with defeat and sorrow and pain. He covered his eyes with his hand for a moment, his beak twitching as if trying not to reveal what went on in his mind.

"Well…well…I…this is very unexpected…I never realized…" J. Gander pulled himself together and said, "I am sorry, Darkwing, that this has happened. Maybe if you could send us a sample of the antidote, perhaps Sara Bellum could replicate it."

Darkwing looked up, defeat written over his face. "I can't. I don't dare. What he gives me is so small, and still it seems to do her little good. If I gave you enough for a sample, she wouldn't have enough to carry her through to the next dose. I can't risk it." There was heavy emotion in his voice.

"Then perhaps…," J. Gander paused. He knew he was dealing with someone who was not entirely rational, but he felt he had to say what was on his mind. "Well, you say she's dying, right?" He didn't need a verbal answer; Darkwing's face said it all. "Then what have you got to lose by letting him run free? Maybe, just maybe, you can take him down and get the full antidote to her at once, or at least get some of it to our lab for testing. Isn't it worth a try?"

Darkwing felt his eyes narrow. The analytical part of his brain, the scientist and detective, agreed with J. Gander and had been trying to convince him of the same. But his heart refused to listen. Quiet, furious anger welled up inside him.

"No. It isn't," he said simply. J. Gander sputtered a bit.

"But, I don't see how…"

"She's my daughter. She's my life. I won't risk her on my own failed skills as a hero. I have everything to lose in her. She's my baby. I won't consider it."

"But, Darkwing, if you don't, SHUSH is completely incapable of dealing with him. He'll hurt so many other people and we really don't have the same instinct for dealing with him that you have. We've tried, but he eludes us and acts in a way that just doesn't fit with the basic logic of our agents. The city needs you, Darkwing!"

The masked mallard turned away, his shoulders stiff. "Gosalyn needs me," he replied, "and if I had been the hero you think I am, she wouldn't be in this mess in the first place. I put her here and I don't intend to make it any worse than it is. You're on your own. St. Canard can deal with its own problems. I've got my own to worry about." Before J. Gander could respond, Darkwing cut the connection. As he stomped back towards Gosalyn's bed, he caught the Flashquack as it flew up to him again. Without even looking, he flung it against a wall and listened as it shattered into fragments.

-==OOO==-

 

She felt terrible. The first part of "terrible" that she could define was her chest; it felt as though the Thunderquack were parked on top of her and she could barely breathe. After that, she became aware of an ache that started behind her eyes and went all the way through her head and down her neck. She tried to open her eyes, but the lids felt heavy. How long had it been since she had last woken? It seemed like forever. Her thoughts were sluggish, floating in a bog that used to be her brain. "Maybe this is what happens if you sit too close to the TV. No, that's supposed to ruin your eyes, it's the video games that rot your brains…" she thought. There was a slight buzzing in her ear. She tried to focus on it and realized that the buzzing was actually her father yelling. Yelling? Her ears had trouble processing it, but she tried hard.

"He used it on MY DAUGHTER! And now he's got me trained like a puppy, bound to leave him alone in return for bits and pieces of the antidote, and meanwhile, she's DYING and there is NOTHING I CAN DO!"

Dying? Could she really be dying? The rest of the conversation fell away as her mind tried to think. Yes, she was feeling awful, but in some strange way she felt more awake than she had since, well, since Negaduck poisoned her. Shouldn't she be getting better? Didn't that mean she was going to be okay? Her dad had assured her she was healing whenever she had been awake before.

Dying. She'd never really thought about it before. But there was something in her father's voice…she couldn't make out any more words, but she could almost hear his frustration, his anger. He was hurt! Hurt because she was sick and there was nothing he could do? She tried to listen again.

"…and if I had been the hero you think I am, she wouldn't be in this mess in the first place. I put her here and I don't intend to make it any worse than it is. You're on your own. St. Canard can deal with its own problems. I've got my own to worry about."

He wasn't stopping Negaduck? That was bad! She tried to twitch, to call out, something. Even through her slowly thinning fog, she felt like she needed to say something. He was a hero. Heroes saved people. Didn't they?

-==OOO==-

 

Launchpad was so distracted by the loud conversation between J. Gander and DW that he never saw Gosalyn's body twitch, nor did he see her eyes open for the briefest of moments. He felt that Darkwing needed someone to talk to, and although he felt bad about it, the truth was, he agreed with the SHUSH agent. Rising from the chair and disentangling himself from Gosalyn's weak hand, he quietly moved toward his partner, intending to put an arm around him. When he caught sight of Darkwing's face, however, he held back. He'd only seen such blackness, such anger on his face once before, when Taurus Bulba had tried to hurt Gosalyn. Frankly, it scared him.

"DW?" Launchpad began hesitantly. Darkwing ignored him and continued towards Gosalyn's bed, but Launchpad stood firmly in between.

"DW, I really think you should talk to someone about this."

Darkwing didn't want to hear it. Although he rarely felt anything violent towards his good-natured sidekick, he growled from the side of his beak, "Get out of my way, LP, or I will go through you."

"Now, listen, DW, this is important!" Launchpad shouted. Darkwing's head came up and he stared the much taller duck straight in the eye.

"I know it is! I know how important it is better than you ever could! She's MY DAUGHTER!" The hero balled his fists and glared at his friend as though staring Negaduck himself in the face. "So don't you start lecturing me about what's important. I should never have let this happen. If I had known what was important, I would have given this up and protected her! Then she'd still be all right!"

Launchpad closed his eyes. He understood that Darkwing blamed himself for Gosalyn's being kidnapped, but somehow he just didn't feel like his friend had it quite right.

"But, DW, I always thought you did know what was important. Isn't that why you became a hero in the first place? Because it was important to protect people?"

"I should have protected her." The words trickled from his beak like tears from his eyes.

"Ah, ya did the best anybody could do," Launchpad said encouragingly. "No one could've guessed what Negaduck was going to do. You couldn't control him."

"But if I'd only given it up before, like I tried that other time." Darkwing remembered when he had decided that his life as a crime-fighter was too dangerous when he had a daughter who needed him. He'd become the model parent for a while, right up until Quackerjack had kidnapped Gosalyn and the other students in her school play and tried to force them into his own toy-making army. He had come for her then, and when it seemed like they were lost, had not regretted keeping his hero alive for her sake, just in case.

"She wouldn't have wanted you to." Launchpad said quietly. Darkwing looked as though he'd been struck.

"What did you say?"

"I said she wouldn't have wanted you to. Give up being a hero, I mean," Launchpad repeated. Darkwing's eyes grew wide. In all these days, through all the hours he had worried over her, cared for her, wept beside her, not once had he really looked at it from the perspective of what Gosalyn wanted. Turning away from Launchpad, Darkwing stood looking at the still form on the bed.

"You know, LP, you're right, I guess. Gosalyn hated it when I gave up being a hero for her sake. It's what brought us together. I think it's what gives her strength to do all the things she does, like sports and facing off with bullies and everything else. Sometimes…" Darkwing trailed off, but in his mind, he was remembering something. He remembered the fear in Gosalyn's eyes when things had gone wrong and she had ended up, many times, in danger. But he also remembered seeing her courage return, only after seeing him come after her. As he thought about it, whenever Gosalyn had been in danger, her spirit and hope had returned as soon as she had seen him, doing all that he could to help her.

Slowly the realization dawned. He was Gosalyn's hero.

Not only that. Darkwing started to see that being a hero meant more to Gosalyn, indeed, to the both of them, than they had realized. It was everything that they both admired in each other and in themselves. Living that life was what they were both born and bred for. Darkwing sighed to himself. Somehow, Launchpad was right. Gosalyn would never have wanted him to give up being a hero for her sake. Never.

"But what can I do?" he asked aloud, looking still at her resting in the bed across the Tower. Launchpad put a hand on his shoulder.

"Well, you know, you can still be a hero for her." Darkwing looked up at his sidekick. Launchpad continued, "Save her! Stop playing Negaduck's game and save the city! Isn't that what heroes usually do?" he asked.

"Yes, Launchpad, that's exactly what heroes do," Darkwing said slowly. His mind was working again. The emotions that had paralyzed him for days were starting to focus themselves into something more constructive. He was starting to think, to plan, and to feel a bit of strength in himself. And, the fact was, Darkwing found himself forced to admit that J. Gander had been right. He really didn't have anything to lose. Neither did Gosalyn.

"Launchpad, you stay here," Darkwing commanded in a voice that warranted no debate. With a more deliberate stride than his sidekick had seen in days, he moved towards Gosalyn's bedside, his mind working fast. He looked down on her tenderly and took her weak hand.

"Gos? I've got to go. The city needs me, and I know you would be proud of me if I helped save it, wouldn't you? For your sake, sweetie, I'll do it," he said, swallowing back a lump in his throat. Leaving her didn't seem like such a good idea when he was faced with the reality of her condition. "I know it looks bad, but we don't have anything to lose, do we?" he asked more to himself than to her. He held her hand for a moment and fancied he felt her move to hold his more tightly. No, it had been his imagination.

"I'll come back to you, Gosalyn, I promise, and then everything will be okay. You just have to hang in there and get well for me. That's the best thing you can do. I won't let Negaduck use this to control either of us anymore." He wiped his own tears away and kissed her gently on the forehead.

"I love you, Gosalyn Mallard, my daughter."

 

-==OOO==-

 

Gosalyn fought within the confines of her own mind. Slowly and steadily, she had been waking up, finding that sleep was harder and harder to fall back into, and so she had strained to listen to her dad and Launchpad talking. By the time Darkwing had come back to her bedside, she had overheard enough to know what he was going to do.

When he came to bid her goodbye, Gosalyn had been forced to try her very hardest to stay still. It wasn't particularly difficult, since she still felt more exhausted than she had ever been before. However, the fog around her body and her mind had been receding rapidly, and she knew for herself that she was going to be able to move soon. But this was something she wanted to keep from her father.

"If dad finds out I'm coming around, he won't go," she thought to herself. "I've got to stay still and make him go be a hero. Then, when he comes back, I'll surprise him!" It was hard for her to keep herself still when he stood over her bed and spoke so softly. She was sure she had unconsciously tightened her small hand around his as an act of comfort, although whether she was giving or receiving comfort was anybody's guess. But he hadn't appeared to have noticed.

As Darkwing prepared to leave the Tower on foot, so as to remain under Negaduck's radar for as long as possible, Gosalyn's thinking started to change. She wasn't sure if she was making less sense or more, but she felt very sure of the thoughts that trickled through her mind.

"Dad thinks I'm dying. Well, if he's really this desperate, he might be right. Then why do I feel so good? Maybe he's wrong. Maybe I am fighting off the poison and he needs to know that so he won't be handicapped when he's fighting Negaduck. But what if he's right? What if I am dying?" Gosalyn's mind when quiet for a time.

"Well," she thought to herself at last, "either way, he needs me. If I'm not dying, he needs to see that so he can be the best hero without worrying about me and that stupid antidote. And if I am dying, then if I can go and pretend to be getting well, he'll fight his best and never know the difference until afterwards." Fear prickled in her mind then. What would happen to her if she pushed herself to her limits so soon? What would happen "after" the fight if she really were dying? Gosalyn couldn't answer those questions. But she kept coming back to one point.

"If I am dying, then I want to go out fighting, like my dad."

Slowly, she began making her body work for her again.

-==OOO==-

 

Launchpad wasn't sitting right beside Gosalyn's bed now that DW had left. He had moved over to do some work on the Thunderquack, mostly to distract himself. He was worried about how desperate the situation was to prompt Darkwing to leave his daughter in this state, even though he knew it needed to be done. It was confusing, this clash of what was best against what was, well, also best. Fixing things sometimes helped him with situations that were confusing.

As he rested on his back under the Thunderquack, trying desperately to tighten a bolt he had been working on, he thought he heard a sound from the other end of the Tower. Quickly turning to look, he scanned the area. Gosalyn's bed with her still tucked in, the computer equipment, old gadgets and devices that DW no longer used or needed. Nothing unusual. He shook his head and went back to the Thunderquack.

Another sound. This time he was sure he heard something. He stood up and moved out into the Tower. The gadgets were fine, the computer wasn't any different, and Gosalyn…

Gosalyn was missing!

Launchpad ran over to the bed, but there was definitely no duckling in it. The sheets were soaked with sweat, and the imprint of where her body had lain for so long was clear. The blankets were sort of pulled from the bed, as though she had tried to pull them off to the side. How on earth had she gotten out of bed? He couldn't imagine her trying to walk in her condition. He could see feathers of hers on the floor. As he knelt down to pick one up, he heard a loud ZOOM!

Turning around, he was able to catch a last glimpse of purple dash from the Tower. Slowly the realization dawned on him as he examined the gadgets left behind. One in particular was missing, one Gosalyn had once claimed for her own instead of letting her father use it when he was injured. It was the one thing of DW's that Gosalyn could really use well, especially since it had been put back together under her watchful eye some months before. Although the Hoverquack hadn't left the Tower since the second encounter with Taurus Bulba, Launchpad was sure it still worked. And Gosalyn knew it too. Perplexed and astounded, he did the only thing he could think of at first: he sat down on the floor and knocked his forehead with his hand.

"DW's going to kill me…"


	8. Single-Minded Duality

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own any of the characters in this story; they all belong to Disney. I am only borrowing them for entertainment purposes, not for profit

The half moon shone with an almost mocking light as Darkwing moved silently through the deserted streets of St. Canard, using every bit of his "invisibility" to stay out of sight. He knew that if Negaduck, or any other villain were to spot him, his entire plan could be blown out of the water before he even had a chance to put it into action. But, thinking clearly for the first time in days, he found that his mind knew all sorts of things he hadn't realized he had noticed. For example, sometime over the last few days, Darkwing had become aware of the fact that Negaduck had moved his headquarters into the police station and was taking up the chief's office space for his own use. The hero had no idea when or how he had figured this out, but he had the feeling that his brain had been awake the last few days, waiting impatiently for his emotions to catch up. He felt restored, as though waking from a long nap. But somewhere underneath, he also felt anger. Incredible, powerful anger, all directed at the monster who had hurt his daughter. For the moment, however, he had called a truce between his raging emotions and his brain. The emotions seemed to agree that for now, his brain needed to have the freedom to work logically and efficiently, and so they relinquished control. However, somewhere, Darkwing felt that his emotions still had their claws locked around him and should they decide that what they wanted was something other than what his mind had planned, they would try to wrest control back. Hidden in the shadows, Darkwing twitched. Letting the dark anger, despair, and fear that had overwhelmed him for days return to full strength in him, dictating his actions and controlling his every move, made him uncomfortable. As he moved swiftly and nearly invisible through the city streets, bound for the police station, he had plenty of time to reflect on what that possible outcome could be.

"It's like I'm two people and each of them wants to be in control," he mused to himself, flitting from shadow to shadow, "I'm Darkwing and Drake at the same time. Darkwing's the cool-headed hero and Drake is the angry father." He paused for a moment as his last image of Gosalyn winked through his mind and he felt his emotions rise. He took a deep breath, forced his fists to relax and his beak to cease snarling, and tried to restore order in his mind. "Drake is so angry and afraid he's nearly out of control, and Darkwing is so calm and calculating he's almost without emotion. If Drake were still in control, I'd either be a raging maniac or the helpless father I've been the last few days, and now that Darkwing is in control again, I am more rational and able to make judgments, even to choose to risk everything." A question struck him like a light in the darkness.

"Then who am I really?"

He considered for a moment and found his mind answering, "I am both, balanced in one, but still two very different people, living both lives. By day I am father and by night I am hero, but in the quiet of the shadow," he thought, pausing as a few tough looking ducks wandered past, too caught up in their villainous mirth to notice him, "I am all of it. And Gosalyn is…she's the thing that holds me together," he realized with a start. A wave of possibilities came over him. "I was once only Drake, and then I became only Darkwing. And then she came."

Although Darkwing found his internal monologue as satisfying as the self-narration with which he usually filled his night hauntings of the city, he paused to sprint from one side of a quiet street to the shadows on the other side. Moving as swiftly as the clouds across the moon in the wind, he climbed a fire ladder to reach the quiet rooftops. He knew he had to slink carefully across the slates of the buildings, as his profile would be easily seen and recognized in the dusky moonlight. Near-crawling, and yet moving with impressive speed, he moved almost automatically from one rooftop to the next, his thoughts flying as fast as his webbed feet.

"Gosalyn woke feelings in me I hadn't had in years, hadn't let myself have in years," he thought, "made me feel things instead of think them. When I put on the mask, I went back to my old ways, or so I thought. But if she showed up on the scene, I would mix father and hero. I became this creature of both, instead of one or the other. I got caught between what I felt and what I thought, what was emotional and what was rational, and the outcome was completely based upon who was stronger. When Drake was stronger, father came out with fear and worry. When Darkwing was stronger, the hero came out understanding the need and value of Gosalyn's help. Drake and Darkwing came into conflict and somehow I got caught between them. And they still conflict, even after all this time, maybe more than ever." A little voice in the back of Darkwing's mind added, "And they always will, because she'll always be your little hero at your side." Internally, Darkwing smiled, then shook with the realization that if he failed, Gosalyn wouldn't be at his side always. The dark emotions began to trump his rational side but he fought them down again.

"Focus," he steadied himself. "It's time." Darkwing stood on a rooftop across the street from the abandoned police station, Negaduck's headquarters. He needed every ounce of focus, control, and skill he possessed. All his hopes were riding on this one.

-==OOO==-

 

Gosalyn panted for breath as she drove the Hoverquack from the Tower. Sneaking away from Launchpad hadn't been as easy as she had expected, and not because he was the most vigilant duck in the world. Climbing, or perhaps "falling" was a better word, out of bed hadn't been too hard, but trying to stay silent while she pulled her exhausted body towards the only vehicle she could use had been near impossible. The only way she had gotten out at all was by taking advantage of Launchpad's momentary lapse in judgement. While he stared at the bed, processing the fact that Gosalyn was no longer in it, she had thrown caution to the wind, dumped herself into the Hoverquack, and pushed the accelerator as hard as she could. Now, racing down the bridge and towards St. Canard, her head spun.

"I'm not so sure this was a good idea," Gosalyn moaned internally. She felt dizzy, weak, and tired beyond anything she'd ever felt before. This wasn't the sort of post-athletic exhaustion she was used to. After a good hockey game, or a football game, or any other sport, Gosalyn felt tired, sometimes even exhausted, but in a productive, healthy, comforting way. Not this time. Her body was shutting down, preparing to die, and she was trying to overcome that weakness, not to mention the additional fatigue from days without food and precious little water. "This isn't like being up the creek without a paddle. I'm up the creek without even a boat!" she thought wretchedly. However, sheer determination won out. She would not be made a victim anymore and she wanted to help her dad more than anything. She wanted to be there to see him beat Negaduck, and even to help if she could. "Not that I can do much," she admitted to herself, "but maybe just seeing me will give him the confidence he needs to win." Gosalyn was unaware of how awful she looked, or she might have realized that the sight of her was more likely to distract and worry the hero than to cheer him. Although she was mobile, she looked more like a zombie from a bad late-night movie than anything else: deep circles under her eyes, brittle and brown feathers, thin, weak limbs, and a shuffling, shaking motion instead of her usual athletic grace. She looked like an undead duckling instead of an almost-dead duckling. If it had been a Halloween costume, Gosalyn would have been delighted with herself. In reality, though, if she had seen herself, she would have been chilled to the core by her own face and body.

Zooming through the streets, Gosalyn thanked the years of video-gaming that had given her almost automatic reflexes and a keen ability to use her thumbs. Since the Hoverquack was mainly controlled by the control panel and recently installed joystick, it was not that different from many arcade game-pads. Gosalyn, exhausted and barely able to keep her eyes on the road, would have blushed if she'd seen how poorly she was driving, but those years of practice made her able to drive enough. Leaning back in the seat, she was more reacting than steering: realizing the HQ was swerving off towards a building and veering it away, noticing an oncoming car and avoiding it, etc. Essentially, she was driving in a squiggly line down the mostly empty streets of St. Canard. By keeping her speed low and periodically taking time to stop and close her eyes for a few moments, Gosalyn was able to keep herself going.

She was headed for the building that had started it all, the abandoned apartment building. Not knowing that Negaduck had relocated, and unable to see from the ground whether or not he had put up any big triumphant banners over any other building, it was the only place she had to start. The streets around her all looked in about the same state of repair, and she felt a stab of guilt as she passed the Hamburger Hippo she knew so well. It was completely trashed and covered with graffiti. The slum where she was headed had taken over the city as all the rats in the city realized their cat was away. It looked like a war zone in quarters of the city that had once been beautiful and peaceful, and Gosalyn realized even more how important her father was to the whole city. His absence had made the difference between safety and destruction, control and chaos. But she would make it all right. Darkwing would make it all right. She was sure of it.

 

-==OOO==-

 

"Just…a…little…more…" Darkwing grunted. He hung upside-down from the air duct that opened into the chief of police's former office. He had to be quick. Webbed feet and legs wrapped tightly around the rope and the gas gun itself, Darkwing reached for the beaker of the light-amber liquid that sat on the desk. Somewhere inside, he smiled at himself. "I'm just like James Pond!" he marveled, thinking of the debonair spy hero that was adored by ducks of all ages.

Cruel laughter echoed down the hall, moving closer as it ricocheted through the empty station, bouncing off the hard, cold hallways and reaching the hero's keen ears.

Darkwing did a half-flip and grabbed the rope. Pulling himself quickly into the vent, he had just pulled his cape out of sight and placed the grate back over it when Negaduck came sauntering into the room. Watching his nemesis laughing with glee, Darkwing remembered some faint explosions he'd heard on his way to the station and he wondered vaguely what Negaduck had blown up this time. Not that it mattered much at this point. Half the city had succumbed to Negaduck's explosive tendencies.

Negaduck stood laughing in the room for a while, then caressed his pile of money, gold, jewlry, etc that stood behind the desk. Darkwing noticed that he fondled it like a, well, never mind. Darkwing didn't really want to be thinking about that anyway. Negaduck touched every piece in the pile more than once, sometimes looking down with guilty pleasure, other times with deep satisfaction, but most often laughing maniacally. Looking at a gold and diamond-encrusted pocket-watch, he paused in his jubilation and frowned.

"Better make up another batch of that stuff for the dweeb," he said to himself. To Darkwing's horror, Negaduck took the beaker of precious antidote and ran some water into it. Darkwing hadn't noticed before that the antidote had been diluted, but now it was all too clear, almost literally. The light-amber liquid was now more of a yellow, squashy color. Negaduck didn't seem concerned, however. Picking up the pocket-watch again, he tucked it in his coat. Muttering something about still having a little time for fun, he left, banging every door in the building behind him and laughing as though nothing had happened.

Darkwing, shaking with rage, dropped down from the vent, this time not bothering with the finesse worthy of James Pond. He took the beaker in his hands, feeling the droplets of water from the sink sliding down the outside. The wetness stuck him as being the same as the sweat from Gosalyn's fever, the fever this potion was supposed to be helping! Suppressing the howl of fury that rose in his throat, Darkwing put his plan into action, eyes narrowed dangerously all the while. From a back pocket of his jacket he withdrew a Quackerware container. With a silent thanks to Herb Muddlefoot, he opened it, poured the remains of the precious antidote in, and sealed it. Then, he pulled a carton of apple juice from another pocket. After pouring it into the beaker, a swish of water made the juice look like nothing had changed. He replaced the beaker, secured the real antidote in his jacket, and returned to the air duct, trying desperately to breathe normally and concentrate on his work.

"Now to get this over to SHUSH," he thought, moving with all the urgency he could get his body to manage, "and hope they can reproduce enough to matter." But somewhere deep down, Darkwing's emotional rage had gained an important foothold in his battle for control.

 

-==OOO==-

 

Launchpad heard a noise behind him. Turning hopefully, he wanted to see a little duckling in pigtails come out from the shadows, safe and sound back in the Tower. Instead he saw a towering Morgana with Honker at her heels, both with pinched and worried faces. Launchpad began to sweat and chuckle nervously. It had only been a few minutes since Gosalyn had taken the Hoverquack out, and he had spent the time wondering what to do, somewhat numbed by the sheer shock of her escape. He didn't want to go looking for her; what if she came back? And he couldn't get ahold of Darkwing, so he had no way of having someone else give him a sensible plan of what to do next. So Morgana's first impression of Launchpad was a nervous, attempting to chuckle pilot, sitting on the floor, staring at the bed completely dumbounded, and also outwardly a little afraid. "She's such a little tyke," he was thinking worriedly, "and way too sick to be out there alone."

Morgana's sweeping stride, the walk that was pride and power and grace in one, stopped in a hurry when she saw the rumpled sheets and empty bed. She took a shrewd look at Launchpad, deduced what she needed to know from his face and nervous laugh, and seriously considered blowing something up. The impulse to destroy something big and satisfying, just to alleviate her feelings was not a common experience for Morgana and it surprised her. Honker rubbed his glasses, then ran forward, saying cautiously, "Gos? Are you here?" in a breaking voice. His breathing was fast and his hands were shaking.

"She's gone," Launchpad said dumbly, getting to his feet.

"I can see that!" Morgana snapped. "How could you let her out of bed? How could she even think of getting up! She's far too sick to be up and around!" Morgana's eyes blazed, but deep down, the elegant sorceress was deeply worried. Gosalyn had been on death's door, and exerting herself might tip the balance to her crossing its threshold. Morgana fought the desire to continue yelling at Launchpad and tried to reestablish some semblance of calm. She knew that Launchpad would be little help in thinking this through, and someone had to be in command, if not for Gosalyn, than for poor frightened Honker's sake.

"How long has she been gone?" she asked, trying not to put the accusation she felt into her voice.

"Only about ten minutes, I guess," Launchpad said, looking at his feet. Morgana was scary when she thundered at people like that. He didn't know how Darkwing could stand it, especially since she thundered at him at least once a month.

"Then we have to go find her. Launchpad, start up the Thunderquack," Morgana said simply.

"No!" Honker cried, running back. His eyes were wide and his beak was quivering, but he was trying to compose himself and think through things. "If we go out, they'll see us and Negaduck won't give us the antidote anymore! She'll…Gos will…" He fought back tears. Morgana knelt and put a warm hand on the duckling's shoulder. She spoke softly, but there was no denying the painful truth of her words.

"Honker, dear, if we don't find her and bring her back, it won't matter. Even if they see us, we have to risk it. It's either that or let her collapse far from help, alone maybe. We may lose the antidote if we go, but we will certainly lose Gosalyn if we stay."

The duckling considered her words, then rubbed his beak on his arm, closed his eyes fiercely, and thought. He had been so bewildered the last few days, with his best friend facing death itself. When the one person who protected Honker and saw him as a valuable person was out of commission, he had lost the side of himself that was a little stronger. Honker prided himself on his brains, but also in his ability to think quickly and accurately, and therefore to present plausible solutions when they were needed, even if his accursed stuttering got in the way. Gosalyn's last few days of agony had driven this ability from him as surely as it had from her father. Honker had found himself idly wondering how much he and Drake must have in common, how much they must both feel for Gos, since they had both stopped being themselves the minute they saw her suffering. But now, like Drake, Honker's emotions were settling down, his logic was winning, and he found himself once again able to examine the problem without terror blocking him. He took a deep breath and looked Morgana straight in the eye, privately hoping he could produce the same kind of rebellious and confident spirit he so admired in Gosalyn. His voice shook but his spoke clearly.

"Then let's go find her."

 

-==OOO==-

 

Gosalyn's head pounded. The apartment building she had tried first had been empty, and it had cost her precious energy to climb the steps to find that out, since the Hoverquack was not a stair machine. So, limp with exhaustion, Gosalyn had wandered the city aimlessly, looking for anything that might lead her to her dad. Suddenly she spotted the police station and something went off in the back of her mind. It was a subtle click, but Gosalyn's mind was still keen enough to recognize it: instinct.

"I'll bet he's in there," she thought. It seemed too perfect for Negaduck to ignore. Since he didn't seem to want the towering skyscrapers this time, the police station was a beautifully ironic pick. Also, and Gosalyn gave a sigh of relief upon seeing this, it was handicapped accessible, so it would be easy for her to take a quick look-around to see if her instincts were right. Steering carefully up the provided ramp at the front door, Gosalyn tried to go slowly so as not to make too much noise with the vehicle. The Hoverquack nudged its way through the partly-broken front doors and the duckling found herself in what might once have been a reception area and some desks. Now it was mostly broken furniture, left-over explosives, and some loot. It was very quiet, but Gosalyn's acute sense of hearing, plus her instincts in high gear, told her something was up. She pulled her tired body out of the vehicle and turned it off. Her socks picked up splinters from the floor as she crossed the space which pricked and poked, but Gosalyn wasn't really aware of it. Her feet were the farthest thing from her concentrating mind.

As she wearily started up the stairs, she thought she heard something behind her. There was a crash and a sudden rude exclamation. Negaduck had returned and had seen the Hoverquack! Gosalyn looked desperately for any place she could hide, but she could not move fast enough. The angry duck came flying up the stairs and almost plowed her over.

"What the-" Negaduck broke off. He stared down at the ruined child beneath him. Instead of the spunky red-head he had snatched from the street, before him stood a shadow, a wraith, barely a living being let alone the same duckling. But it was her. Negaduck would know this Gosalyn anywhere. Her sagging feathers, wide and unfocused eyes, dark shadows and gaunt places where muscle and flesh had been, and the uncontrollable shaking body all pointed to the poison's devastating work. Negaduck tried to feel triumphant that he had created a master destructive element, but something about her quashed all those impulses. Gosalyn stood on the step above him, holding onto the railing with both hands, shaking. Her eyes showed no fear, but there was sweat dripping off her bill and soaking her shirt, and her raspy breathing was one of the most desperate sounds he'd ever heard. Something in him wondered if maybe this kind of destruction wasn't quite the same as blowing something up. Maybe this kind of evil was somehow more evil, this creation of abject suffering and ultimately resulting in death. Negaduck didn't understand his reaction. What he didn't understand made him angry.

"What are you doing here?" he bellowed, scooping her up in one hand and noticing how much weight she had lost in only a few days. Gosalyn was too week to react, but the "oomph" that was squeezed from her lungs spoke for her. He marched up the stairs to his new office and set her in the chief's soft chair. Gosalyn leaned her head back against the cushions of the chair wearily and tried to stop shaking.

"I…" Gosalyn tried to focus. The irrational panic at seeing Negaduck, being alone with him again, was making her feel worse than ever. "I came to s-stop you," she barely whispered. She tried to make her eyes fearless, as brave as her father would be, but her heart was hammering in her chest with a suppressed fear. Gosalyn tried to control the knee-jerk reaction seeing her tormentor had on her, but something about the pathetic nature of her situation made her feel more vulnerable and helpless than ever. The duckling bravely fought the frightened child inside, trying to keep it from taking hold. She, like her father, tried to stay the hero instead of giving in to her fears.

Negaduck stared at her, barely noticing the internal battle the duckling was fighting. He took in her entire sickness, every detail that he could see. He didn't get it. Why would she be out in a Darkwing-mobile, looking like that, all by herself? What was the hero thinking, letting her run around like this? Or was he using her? Negaduck pondered that. It was possible Darkwing had sent her to beg for forgiveness, make him turn over the antidote, and then, when she had it, signal the hero to beat him. Yes! That must be it! There was no other way he could explain her presence. Negaduck could not fathom the selflessness of Gosalyn's acts, so he instead turned them into a ploy by his enemy to defeat him.

"You're here to beg for mercy, is that it?" Negaduck taunted her, his voice dripping venom. "You want this," he picked up the beaker, "don't you?" Gosalyn looked up at him with real defiance in her eyes. He was wrong, and it gave her courage. Something in her snapped once and for all.

"No, I don't."

"Well, what do you want then?" Negaduck demanded.

"I want Darkwing to beat you!" she shouted with more spirit than the villain thought she could muster. "I can give him hope again because I'm still alive, because I made it here. I can make him brave enough to beat you without worrying about me! I'm going to stop you. Even if you hurt me," her voice squeaked a little at that admission, "it won't matter anymore. Darkwing will beat you and then he'll save me, too. I know it! Because he's a hero and you're nothing but a horrible, disgusting whack-job who hurts kids and ruins lives and destroys everything!" Gosalyn stopped and gasped a bit for breath.

Negaduck stood in stunned silence. Then his stun turned to fury.

"Well, isn't that nice! You're going to cheer him to victory, are you? Well, let's see you do it now!" he shouted, beyond reason or control. With a wild swing, he threw the beaker of yellow liquid against the wall and watched it shatter, splattering the fluid on the wall and throwing shards of wet glass everywhere.

Gosalyn went numb. She hadn't seen this coming. Even though she had come to Negaduck to help her father, she hadn't really considered what would happen to her if Negaduck made good on his promise. And now he had. Gosalyn felt her beak begin to quiver. She was going to die now. There was nothing anyone could do to save her anymore. A tear trickled down her feathered cheek, splashed on her arm. She drew a shuddering breath, then another. A few more tears fell. She slumped back against the chair, defeated. "At least he can fight Negaduck without worrying about me anymore," she thought to herself. But Gosalyn's hope was gone and she was filled with despair. The fear of death came over her then, and she slipped into oblivion.

 

-==OOO==-

 

Negaduck stared at the wall where he'd thrown the beaker. Something inside him felt, well, bad. He couldn't deny that he felt guilty, actually guilty for doing that! It was an odd feeling, guilt. He was sorry and all he really wanted was to take back the throw, to have the beaker be whole again. Negaduck clenched his hand. He wished he'd never thrown it, never had to feel guilt like this. He hated the whole thing, hated it that it made him feel sorry. He even started to feel sorry about watering it down. As he thought about it, he hadn't really bothered to care about what it must have been doing to her, having less and less antidote given her. Now he knew and now he was sorry. And he hated it.

He turned to look at Gosalyn and saw the tears that streamed down her face. Her beak was pulled back in an expression of not wanting to show what she was feeling, but her eyes were wider than any eyes he'd ever seen before. No matter what he'd done before, he had never ever destroyed life like this. She didn't even seem to see him anymore, just turned into herself and grieved and feared. He could see it in her face. And then her breathing sped up and her eyes rolled up into her head. Without thinking, Negaduck jumped forward and caught her as she slipped out of the chair in a dead faint. He lifted her in his arms, not noticing his own tenderness. His face showed that he was shaken inside.

"What did I do?" he said, surprise and anger in his voice. Internally, he found himself asking, "and what do I do now?"


	9. Fear and Forgiveness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Darkwing, etc, blah blah legal stuff. This is only for fun. Enjoy!

Darkwing stood on the rooftop of SHUSH's secret headquarters, trying to regain some self-control. Handing the precious antidote off to Sara Bellum and watching her eyes squint at its pale color had been bad enough. But he could only sit through a few moments as she began running tests on what was left of Gosalyn's life before he needed to leave. Every time she put a dipper into the once-golden fluid, drawing out a few precious drops as a sample, Darkwing had to restrain the urge to stop her. Those drops were the only thing that was keeping Gosalyn alive. His deepest fear was that they would be unable to replicate the antidote and end up using it all in failed testing and Gosalyn would die. Although, he bitterly reminded himself, by now it was so diluted he wasn't sure it could have helped her anyway. His heart coiled like a snake and the urge to destroy Negaduck overwhelmed him. Darkwing had always known Negaduck was evil, but he had never before seen how absolutely ruthless and vile of a villain he was. What kind of horrible being could laugh while teasing a dying child with medicine that didn't work? Darkwing's fists hurt and he realized he was clenching his fingers so tightly that he was actually pulling out his own feathers. He forced his hands to release and sat on the low wall around the roof.

"Now what?" he asked himself aloud, feeling once again without direction. He had done everything he could think of to give Gosalyn a chance, and he wasn't even sure it would be enough. He didn't want to go back to the Tower, not without an antidote in hand. Frankly, Darkwing wasn't sure he could look at Gosalyn's decimated body until he knew he could save her. How could he face her, tell her he had the means of saving her, and then let her down? Even asleep, Darkwing believed with all his heart that Gosalyn could hear him, and to give her hope and then find it misplaced would be at least as tormenting as what Negaduck had already put her through. He couldn't bear that. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her again.

Darkwing's mind began to wander to the beginnings of his time with Gosalyn. He remembered the night when Taurus Bulba attacked the city with the Ramrod. How scared Gosalyn had looked in his grasp, how desperate she was to seem strong in spite of the hulking menace that held her. He remembered his horror at accidentally letting Bulba know how much she meant to him, and how he used it against them. The image of Gosalyn, lifted by that infernal pet bird and falling to the street below still struck him in the stomach more painfully than any punch or kick. He had cried out, begged for her life, and Bulba had laughed. Laughed as though Gosalyn meant nothing at all, as if she were worthless. Darkwing felt a tear splash on his beak. Gosalyn meant everything. She was worth everything. He had almost failed her that time. If not for Launchpad's staunch loyalty and quick flying, he would have lost her then. Darkwing hid his face in his hands.

"Gos, I'm so, so sorry. It's me that should be dying, it's me that should have been hurt. Please, please don't die. Please don't give up," Darkwing cried, his shoulders shaking under the burden of his pain and fear. Now that he was alone, now that he was no longer comforting or protecting or trying to be strong, the reservoir of despair and pain and guilt that had filled him broke. He loved Gosalyn more than he had ever known he could love anyone or anything. She was his whole life and the only thing worth living for. He would trade away his life if it would save her. He groaned in pain, both emotional and physical. The crying hurt; his body was weak from days without enough food or sleep, and that plus the emotional onslaught made him feel dizzy and made his chest ache. He heard a roaring in his ears and it seemed to echo down to his webbed feet. The roaring got louder. Darkwing looked up in surprise. Then he practically fell off the roof in horror.

The Thunderquack! It was circling the city, flying as if it were any other night and they were out on patrol! What was Launchpad thinking? He would force Negaduck's hand too soon. It was like a beacon "here I am, time to take revenge!" Before he even realized he was standing, Darkwing found his feet beneath him, and sprinting towards the door back into the SHUSH building. He knew he could rewire J. Gander's communication devices to tap into the THunderquack's frequencies. He had to stop them!

A few agonizing minutes later, Darkwing was sitting in J. Gander Hooter's chair, looking at the storm-cloud face of Morgana through the viewer in the plane. Honker, behind her, looked pale, but was concentrating on looking intently out one of the wide windows. And Launchpad was actually ignoring the conversation and focusing on flying, which was practically unheard of!

"What do you think you're doing!" Darkwing screamed at the screen, launching himself from the office-chair and waving his arms. He could see Honker wince in the background, but Morgana opened her beak to say something. He interrupted, "You KNOW you can't be out like that! What if Negaduck sees you? Get back to the Tower immediately! How could you…"

"Dark, Gosalyn's missing." Morgana was very careful not to choose the word "gone" or "lost," because she was sure DW's heart would stop then and there. From the look on his face as he processed her words, it had stopped anyway.

"M-missing? What do you mean?" Darkwing floundered, his heart suddenly hammering so hard and fast he felt dizzy all over again. No. No, this couldn't be happening!

"It looks like she took the Hoverquack. I…" Morgana hesitated, then gulped, "we think she left to come and help you. We're trying to find her."

Darkwing felt a swift and sharp pain rattle through him, much worse than the times he'd been struck by Megavolt's lightning or even zapped by Morgana's errant magic. He fell back into the chair he'd abandoned at his first outburst, wide eyes locked with the sorceress's own. For a moment, his mind stood still, trying to process what she had said. Then came the panic.

"But she'll die! She doesn't have the energy for that! She'll kill herself if she doesn't get hurt by someone else first! How could she do that? Why…" he ranted, voice squeaking and ending in a dry sputter. He thought about Gosalyn and being a hero and what he would do if he could, and the "why" of her actions made perfect sense all in a flash. "Of course she left the Tower," his rational side thought, "because she's a fighter, and if she knew what I was doing, she would want to help. She always wanted to help." But he also knew down to his very feathers that in her condition, exerting herself was a death sentence. Darkwing's pain and despair threatened to overwhelm him again. He closed his eyes and took a breath. Gosalyn's face as he'd seen it last floated before him, and he tried to swallow the bile that rose in his throat. "Steady," he told himself, "you've got to save her. No time for anything else now."

"Come get me," he ordered sharply through the screen. He gave them directions to the rooftop, not caring about SHUSH's security and their hidden building. Satisfied that they could locate it, he cut the connection without another word and started to run for the stairwell again. Agents with questioning looks whizzed by; he even thought he'd seen Grizlykoff as he raced through the labyrinth of hallways. As he turned the corner, he missed seeing J. Gander Hooter enter into a quick conversation with the great bear, waving him silent and sending him away from the fleeing hero. But Darkwing was unaware of the exchange. None of it mattered. The only thing in his mind was reaching Gosalyn before it was too late.

 

-==OOO==-

 

Gosalyn was in a dark, cold place. She was crying bitterly, at once terrified and terribly sad, but she couldn't remember exactly why. After what felt like forever of crying, she started looking around, ignoring the tears that still wet her beak. She walked in circles several times, looking for anything that might tell her where she was or how to get out. It was so dark and cold.

"Gosalyn."

The duckling whirled, startled in the darkness. Before her stood her grandfather, Professor Waddlemeyer, looking just as he had when he had been alive. His warm, kind face, that familiar smell, even the little things Gosalyn had forgotten about her grandfather were all there, right down to his wayward socks and the fraying around the seams of his cuffs. Gosalyn, stunned, could only stare. Her grandfather reached out to her, his hand still stained with the pen ink that he used when working on a project and tended to smear everywhere.

"Gosalyn, it's alright. It's me. You're not alone anymore. Come here, little one" His voice, so soft and low, spoken almost like a prayer, comforted her. Gosalyn could not hold back the tears anymore.

"Grandpa!" she sobbed, and she threw herself into his arms as so often she had as a younger child. Professor Waddlemeyer held her then, wrapping his warm, strong arms around her and enfolding her like a pillow. She clung to his familiar collar and sobbed into his shirt, repeating over and over "grandpa, grandpa, grandpa." He held her until her tears were gone and she lay quietly against his chest.

"Still spirited as ever, I see." A smile lit his voice. "Now, my child, tell me why you were crying when I found you."

Gosalyn began an explanation, but found that instead of telling him all about Negaduck and the antidote, which she finally remembered, she was telling him everything from when he had first been killed. She related the adventure with Darkwing Duck and his adopting her, telling her grandfather the whole story since he'd left her. Without realizing it, Gosalyn had felt terribly guilty for loving Darkwing after her grandfather died, like that love was a betrayal to the man who had raised her. To finally tell Professor Waddlemeyer, face to face, how she felt, not only about him and his death, but about her new father and family, the guilt she had carried so long started to melt away. As she spoke, Gosalyn found herself, smiling sometimes as she remembered funny or happy times she had shared with her adopted father, Launchpad, and Honker. Still curled safely in her grandfather's arms, she shared her whole life with him, her secrets and fears, her feelings and thoughts, everything. She found she could think clearly again, feeling truly safe for the first time in a long time, as though she had come home once more, but to a home she had rarely known.

"Grandpa, I guess I was crying because I was scared. I'm scared to hurt and scared to die and scared to be alone again. And I don't want to leave dad. I love you, and I always will, but I love dad, too. I don't want him to get hurt if I die. I love him. I miss you, but I love him, too." The fear of dying, of being alone, of leaving Darkwing, shook her as it had before. Gosalyn felt terror-stricken tears spilling again and clung even more fiercely to her grandfather. He held her a moment, then lifted her away from him and looked straight into her wide green eyes, as he always had when he had to tell her something important. Gosalyn tried to hold her tears still and looked into Professor Waddlemeyer's eyes until she could really listen.

"Gosalyn Mallard, I love you. You are a Mallard now, even though you'll always be a Waddlemeyer, too. I am so grateful that you found a father who could love you as much as I do and who will always take care of you. You don't have to feel guilty anymore. It's good that you're loved. That's all that matters to me. Stop worrying about me and know that I love you always, and that you will always be my granddaughter and Drake's daughter and that's as it should be. I will always be with you. You'll never be alone, no matter what. I promise." The words were like a balm to her heart. He continued, drawing her a little closer, and his voice sounded cloudier, muffled by some emotion she could not identify.

"Don't be frightened about what will happen. You're going to be okay, as long as you don't give up. You hang onto that spirit of yours, and keep fighting. Just try to be brave and hold on a little longer. Your father is waiting for you. Remember that I love you for who you are, my dear Gosalyn, and don't give in to your fear. Fear is the only thing that can hurt you now. Be brave, my little one, for me and for your father."

"I will," Gosalyn answered drowsily, starting to feel kind of warm and sleepy, and deeply secure in his words. She felt like she was being tucked into her grandfather's arms with blankets of love and security, rather like her father tucking her in at bedtime. Gosalyn snuggled into the feeling of peace that radiated from him. What was there to fear? Grandpa loved her. Dad loved her. She was safe and always would be safe. All her fear vanished in the face of that incredible, loving peace. Somewhere far away she could hear her grandfather singing their song to her, but somehow his voice sounded something like her father's, as though they were both singing with one strong, loving voice.

_"I'll be near to chase away fear, so sleep now and dream 'til tomorrow."_

Then she slipped into a warm, blissful nothingness.

 

-==OOO==-

 

Negaduck stared at the body in his arms. The duckling hung so limply, like a rag doll, her shuttering breathing echoing in the strangely silent room. Holding her, he really had no idea what to do next. "Why'd I even catch her?" he asked himself. "Why didn't I just let her fall? Who cares what happens to some sick kid?" But he could not seem to disregard her that easily. He hated feeling responsible for her, hated that he was sorry. His rage shook him again, but he still held her gently.

Looking around, he found a rich fur he had recently stolen from some wealthy duck, and still not sure why he bothered, he bundled it up and laid the child on it. The fur was thick and large and folded twice over beneath her, making a soft mattress. Once she was still again, Negaduck jumped back, as though burned by the image of her repose. Though her breathing was still strained, her shed tears still trickled down her beak, and her body was soaked with sweat that smelled of illness and death, Gosalyn's expression was serene, peaceful, and innocent. Negaduck had never seen such a look on any child's face before. Always he inspired terror, so he had rarely seen this kind of beauty before. He turned and stalked off, intending to go out and blow something up to clear his head. He was becoming some kind of sentimental idiot! Blast that duckling! He wished he'd never laid eyes on her in the first place.

As he crossed the room, he felt something sharp pierce his webbed foot and send a shooting pain up his leg. Muttering a curse, he bent down and picked a large shard of glass from a now-bloody gash in his foot. His eyes followed a trail of pale liquid to more shards, to a splattered puddle, to a wall that still bore the evidence of his rage. The blood from the cut on his foot mixed with the fluid and made some kind of runny, orange mess that trickled around the shards of glass like the pull of the ocean on rocks. Negaduck stared at the blood that was trickling slowly from his cut into the pool of once-amber fluid. Its color, the bright red of his heart's blood, reminded him of the girl's hair. But his blood was so much more vibrant, pulsing with life, whereas her hair was limp, dull, and seemed to be fading to pale with the rest of her.

Negaduck swore again. He hated feeling guilty about having broken it. Hearing a rattling cough, he turned to look and turned back around just as quickly, not wanting to see her anymore. Deciding not to go and blow something up, he wandered back over to his piles of loot and tried to enjoy the triumph in them. But somehow, as he picked through each piece, the satisfaction in having stolen them was bitter. Deliberately ignoring the desperate breathing sounds from the child at the other end of the room, Negaduck focused his eyes on his treasures and counted them again. Still, the gleeful sense of power, of being Public Enemy Number One, was missing. Flinging aside a large gem, he turned angrily from the pile. As he stomped back across the room, this time really meaning to go and blow things up and really enjoy doing it, the sight of Gosalyn stopped him in his tracks. Her eyes were fluttering open.

Although he had no idea why, he waited next to Gosalyn to watch her slowly come around.

-==OOO==-

 

Gosalyn felt strangely comfortable, as though she were still tucked in…where had she been? She had a fleeting memory of her grandfather and feeling very safe, but the rest of it was slipping away into the clouds of her memory. She blinked her eyes several times, feeling how heavy they seemed. A part of her was tugging at her mind, telling her to sleep again, that sleep would give back that peace and memory she sought. However, Gosalyn knew instinctively that if she fell back asleep she might not wake up again. Some words floated back to her, something about being brave and holding on, and her stubborn side kicked in. She was not going to die yet, not like this. Slowly, deliberately, Gosalyn opened her eyes, ignoring her body's pleas to drift off into sleep again. "I will be strong for you," she whispered to the last rags of the dream.

She was lying on some kind of fuzzy blanket in the police station, and Negaduck was standing over her. The sight of her tormentor did not cause her fear as it had before, but it did make her want to face him equally, just like her dad would have. Gosalyn tried to sit up, but found she lacked the strength. Lying back, panting from the attempt, she instead turned to face her tormentor from her make-shift bed.

"What are you going to do with me?" Gosalyn asked, her voice weak, but not touched by fear. The prison of her body held her still, but she refused to be held by either her condition or her fear any longer.

"I don't know," Negaduck growled. There was something in the duckling's face that bothered him. The fear that had overwhelmed her before was gone, replaced by something stronger and more steady. He knew she was no threat to him; she could barely move. And yet somehow a part of him seemed to be more afraid of her than she was of him. He stared at Gosalyn's unblinking face. He hated being afraid. Being afraid was almost worse than feeling guilty. He hated her for making him feel both.

"Why did you do it?" Gosalyn asked after a moment's silence. "Why did you do this to me?" There was no accusation in her voice, none of the hysterical fear that usually accompanied that kind of question. She spoke quietly and evenly, her green eyes dulled by the poison that was devouring her, but vibrant with a different kind of spirit.

"Uh," Negaduck began, and found the words stuck to his beak like peanut butter. He wanted to scream and rant about getting Darkwing Duck out of his way, about having power over the city, about being Public Enemy Number One, but somehow those explanations just didn't work anymore. They were true, but they didn't really work. He couldn't come up with a good answer to her question, not the way she had asked it. Negaduck stared at her again, unconsciously leaning closer to the child. What could make someone who was dying in such a horrible, painful way so still and strong?

"I'm not afraid anymore," Gosalyn said. Memories of her grandfather floated to the surface again. What had he said? Something like fear was the only thing that could hurt her? When had he told her that? It must have been a long time ago. She couldn't remember. "I'm not afraid, so you can't hurt me." She spoke calmly.

"What? What do you mean? Of course I can hurt you!" Negaduck shouted, woken from his numb shock and feeling more like his usual self for the first time since he'd found her on the stairs. Negaduck felt in control again. He practically flew to her side and took one of her thin arms in his hands. He began to squeeze it, feeling brown feathers fall from between his fingers. He wrenched her arm until any other child would have been screaming. But Gosalyn only looked at him with her intent green eyes, and showed no sign of suffering or pain. He found himself close to breaking her arm, and released his hold, eyes wide.

"Maybe you can hurt my body. Maybe you can kill me. But you can't really hurt me anymore. You can't reach me. I'm safe. No matter what happens to my body, I will always be safe, and you can't break that, no matter how hard you try." Gosalyn almost smiled. Knowing she was going to die was comforting in a strange way. There was no more uncertainty. All the little things that had mattered before were gone. She didn't feel pain or fear anymore. All she felt was love, for her father, for her grandpa, wherever he was. She felt strangely serene.

Negaduck felt a quiver of fear run through him. This girl was somehow far more powerful than he, in spite of the fact that she was obviously dying. But her eyes! It was almost as though the spirit shining in those green eyes was not the same person whose body was shutting down and falling apart before him. They were as calm as if the body suffering belonged to another person entirely. A pang of guilt shot through him then. He didn't know why he felt so suddenly guilty, just something about her child-like innocence and yet unmatched courage struck him. This was a spirit that should not die. Someone as strong as Gosalyn should live.

"How did you do this?" he asked her in his gravelly voice. "How can you not care like that? How come you don't care and I do, huh? You don't care that you're dying!" Negaduck was nearly screaming now. "Well, I do. I wish I'd never thrown that thing. I wish I'd never laid eyes on you. I wish I'd never hurt you. Because now I'm sorry. You made me sorry. How could you? You're going to die all happy and peaceful and I'll…" he suddenly spoke very quietly, torn between rage and shame, "I'll never forget how you looked at me like that. I'll see your eyes every day for as long as I live and be sorry and hate you. I just know it."

Gosalyn felt something move in her stomach. Negaduck's face was changing. Now, she felt like she was looking at her father. Something in the perpetual scowl on the villain's face had softened. She felt a tear slide down her beak, not from pain or fear, but out of pity. "He's as different from dad as he can be, but I think he really is sorry this time," she thought. Gulping down the effort of motion, she lifted a hand and reached toward him.

"I forgive you, Negaduck." It felt good to say it.

Negaduck took a sharp breath and felt her forgiveness wash over him. For a moment, it felt a bit like the warm fire of something he'd incinerated, warming him in a way that was somehow tied to triumph, but not the joy in destruction he was used to. Then he looked at her and the reality of her condition hit him again. Something black and ugly wiped out everything but a buzzing of angry regret and hateful despair. He pushed it all aside and turned his back.

"I don't need to be forgiven. That's for wimps and so-called heroes. You're supposed to be afraid of me." He intended to say it dangerously, but it came out with a pleading tone somewhere under the anger.

"I'm not afraid. And I do think you need to be forgiven. And I need to forgive you. So I did," Gosalyn said simply. Something in the tight set of his shoulders and the way he was fidgeting reminded her of her father again. She wondered if, just as there was the potential for great evil in her father, if there was potential for good in Negaduck. She remembered when she'd accidentally ended up in the future and Darkwarrior Duck had taken over the city, putting people in jail, or even to death, for nothing at all. She wondered if Negaduck had a Darkwing side to him, too.

Negaduck grunted. He was trying to think before the strange sensations in his blighted heart could get their hooks in him any more than they already had. He couldn't take this. The girl was too weird, too happy about dying. It wasn't right, and it made him think things he didn't want to be thinking. He tried to look at her like someone who had lost it somehow, someone who was not right in the head, instead of being, well, whatever she was that made him lose himself. He didn't want to be around someone that crazy anymore. Of course he didn't want to be around her. Crazy people should be avoided. That's all it was, just a crazy person he needed to get away from as soon as possible. The sudden inspiration hit him and he turned back, feeling almost like his usual evil self again.

"Okay, kid, say what you want. I don't care. But I'm getting rid of you. You're staining my loot" he gestured to the fur she was lying on, "and getting on my nerves." He stepped over to her and picked her up again. He had intended to hold her like any other person in his power, dangling under an arm, but he found himself cradling her again. He rationalized it to himself by believing that this way her sweat wouldn't stain his cape. It had nothing to do with anything but his own concern for himself. He didn't care about her at all. Why should he?

"Where are you taking me?" Gosalyn asked. She was aware of how gently he held her, and the flash of her father holding her in much the same way made her unconsciously relax in his arms.

Negaduck stopped. He wasn't really sure. Most of all, he wanted to be rid of her, but he couldn't just plunk her down on some sidewalk somewhere. The city's hospitals were mostly out of commission, due to his recent activities, and he didn't really know any other good place for her. Maybe Bushroot's place? If Bushy hadn't left town like a sniveling coward, maybe he would help. He was pretty soft, and he had been some kind of doctor before he was a vegetable. Yeah, Bushy would do for her. He stepped forward, feeling a little more like his jaunty old self. As soon as the kid was out of his feathers, he could get back to having some fun and forget she'd ever been there.


	10. Trust and Truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Darkwing, etc, legal blah blah; these are all Disney characters and I don't like copyright lawyers. I do not get paid for this story, but I sure wish I did! So, onto the next sequence in our adventure!

As soon as the Thunderquack picked him up, Darkwing showed Launchpad the tracer he had installed in all the vehicles. It was a standard tracking device, hidden under the passenger seat of the plane so it wouldn't be used without his knowledge, and interlinked with a similar one in the Ratchatcher and Hoverquack,. When he'd done it, it had been due to a recent experience of losing the Ratcatcher in Audobon Bay and having to dive for days to re-locate it. After the final dive, coming out of the water soggy but relieved, Darkwing swore he would never lose his vehicles again. Also, he had thought it might not be a bad thing to have, just in case Gosalyn ever decided to try her hand with motorcycles when she got older. However, he had deliberately neglected to mention the new tracer to LP. Darkwing trusted his side-kick more or less, but he hadn't told him about it largely because Darkwing didn't want Launchpad messing with it and tracking things like Hamburger Hippo locations. When the device showed the location of the Hoverquack on the localized map, Darkwing's heart had almost stopped beating again.

"Police headquarters," he said stiffly, feeling as though his chest had seized up and any amount of movement would break him to pieces. "Negaduck's headquarters."

The flight took forever. When Launchpad landed the Thunderquack in the street outside, Darkwing's webbed feet flew so fast he didn't even notice having disembarked. It was an instant between when he jumped from the open hatch of the plane and when he was launching from the top of the stairs, heading to the room Negaduck was using. Morgana, Honker, and Launchpad were all far behind. Bursting open the door with the force of his sheer momentum, he stood for a moment and stared.

Negaduck stood in the center of the room, cradling Gosalyn in his arms. Gosalyn looked worse, much worse. Her sweat still ran down her body and the smell of death clung to her. Darkwing could see the slight tremor from the fever that held her. But then Gosalyn turned her eyes on him and he was nearly flattened by the look he read in her gaze. The light of trust and love and a kind of peace shone in her eyes, and for a moment Darkwing felt the same way he did after watching the sun come up after a night of moonless dark. Then her eyes dimmed and a shuddering cough threatened to split her in two, breaking the spell of the moment.

Negaduck was also staring openly at the sudden appearance of his nemesis. It was bad enough that Dimwing had suddenly appeared, flying through the door like some kind of rampaging purple bull, but then the idiot hero just stopped. None of the usual "I am the terror that flaps in the night" nonsense, no gas gun, none of the signature dorky things. It was like he'd run into some kind of glass wall the way he stopped so abruptly. Negaduck found himself fascinated by the expression that melted across the hero's face as he looked at Gosalyn. Snarling rage turned to sudden, comical shock, turned to a soft look of something Negaduck shied away from seeing. There was something about the naked, tender caring on the hero's face that bothered him. No duck should look that sappy! The cough that rattled the duckling in his arms reminded him to act.

"What are you doing here?" demanded Negaduck. He couldn't pull a gun, due to the child he held, but he tensed, feeling like he could fight or run if necessary. He was dimly aware that his arms were fastened around Gosalyn more tightly than before.

"Let her go!" Darkwing shouted, the peaceful moment broken and his blood boiling at seeing his daughter at the mercy of his ultimate enemy. She did not look afraid, but Darkwing didn't want to take the chance that Negaduck would hurt her again.

"You want her, duck?" Negaduck called, almost tauntingly. Actually, he realized that this would be the perfect excuse for his position. Unload the girl on the dweeb and run for it. Not a bad idea, since she really wasn't any use to him anyway as a hostage now that he had destroyed the antidote. May as well get rid of her before she died in his arms. A very, very cold shiver whipped through him at that image. He tried to brush it away.

"Darkwing," Gosalyn said softly, her voice strained. Both caped ducks stared at her as if they had forgotten she was even there between them. "I'm sorry. I broke the antidote. I didn't mean to. Just don't let any other people get hurt, okay? I'm stuck now." A tear trickled down her beak. "I'm sorry," she said again, regret shading her tone as more tears followed.

Darkwing's jaw dropped in shock and sudden terror. "No," he quickly reminded himself, "I got it out first. She doesn't know that I switched it with juice, and I can't tell her I've got it because then Negaduck can use her. I've got to pretend that it's hopeless or else he'll catch on and use her against me again." So he left the shocked look on his face. But looking up, Darkwing wondered why Negaduck looked so strange.

Negaduck's jaw was so slack it was almost hitting Gosalyn, his surprise was so great. The kid was actually blaming herself for destroying the antidote! Any other sane duck would have screamed and cried about how he had done it to terrify them, how he was the bad guy. But she didn't. Negaduck wrenched his beak closed and stared at her. What kind of kid was she, anyway? Her eyes were all for Darkwing now; she didn't look back at Negaduck. Something in the proud way Gosalyn held her head, without balancing it against his shoulder, told him things about her, about himself, he had never wanted to know, things he could never put into words. All in a flash, Negaduck wondered if maybe pain and death wasn't the most frightening end. Maybe something else mattered far more. The thoughts disturbed him.

Gosalyn took another breath. It was getting much harder to keep awake and keep breathing, but she had to tell her dad something else, too. She wouldn't give out until he heard what she needed to say. "I don't want you to worry about me, okay? I'm not scared anymore. I just want you to keep being a good guy, keep being a hero, okay? There are lots of kids out there who need a Darkwing to make the city better for them, to take care of them. Please," and her voice caught on a sob, "please don't be sad." It was so hard to keep from crying. She was afraid for herself, but Gosalyn ached inside much more for her father. She didn't want to die and leave him behind. She wanted to grow up with him and learn to be his sidekick and then be a hero at his side.

A sudden low cry brought everyone's attention to the space behind Darkwing. Unnoticed, Morgana, Launchpad, and Honker had reached the room in time to hear Gosalyn's words. Honker's feathers were laced with tears and Morgana's eyes glistened with them even as her fingers twitched in a need to act. But Launchpad was devastated, his wide beak slack and his large and kindly face contorted in anguish as he repeated the mournful sound, something between a sob and a moan. He loved Gos! He didn't ever want her to go away! DW had to save her!

Negaduck missed the anguish and just saw the enemies gathered against him. It was a plot! Darkwing had planned all along to lure him into a false sense of security and then outnumber him and take him down. Negaduck was torn with the suppressed guilt and other feelings Gosalyn had woken in him which were at war with his inner-assurance, so he resolved the mess by the usual means: falling back into rage and violence. How dare they all enter his lair? How dare they care so much about such a stupid kid? He would show them all what "evil" really was!

"Nobody move!" he shouted, voice raw with bewildered and blind hate. "Nobody move or I'll kill her right here!" He was waving wildly now, and Gosalyn hung from his flailing arms like a rag-doll. The duckling grit her teeth and forced herself not to cry out at the rough treatment. Darkwing made a move to interfere but he backed away. "Don't even think about it," Negaduck rumbled. He stared Darkwing down.

There was a shout from Morgana, a sudden flash of light, and then a startled "Oh, no!" In spite of himself, Negaduck broke eye-contact with his arch-nemesis to see what the others were staring at. What had that crazy witch done now?

Morgana had already pulled out her spell-book and was muttering "counter-curse, right, counter-curse." Honker was bending over a very large bowl of some kind with a very confused look on his face.

"You turned him into alphabet soup?" he asked incredulously.

Indeed, what had at one point been Launchpad was now a large, steaming bowl of alphabet soup. Negaduck fought the urge to giggle. He managed a snort, but the craziness of the situation was really something. A couple of letters floated to the top. H…E…P…L… They swirled around a bit. H…E…L…P… Then after a few moments, D…O…N…T…L…K…E…S…P…E…L…I..N…G.

"I missed!" Morgana shouted, exasperated and frustrated. She turned back to the book while Honker tried to rationalize what he had just witnessed. Launchpad popped some bubbles.

Darkwing, still only focused on his daughter, took the opportunity of the bizarre distraction to launch himself at Negaduck. The hero intended to get Gosalyn away from his nemesis before he did her anymore harm. Negaduck saw him coming, though, and again leapt backwards out of the way.

"Don't even think about it," he menaced.

"No, please," Gosalyn breathed, eyes locked with Darkwing's once more. "Let him go. It's okay, just help Launchpad and…" Here she coughed and there was blood in her beak.

"Gos," Darkwing began helplessly. He felt like everything was falling apart. Gosalyn was dying, Launchpad was soup, Negaduck was winning. He found his knees shaking and reached for her as a father, not a hero. "Let her go, please," he said to Negaduck's sneering face. "She's just a little girl."

"Fine!" Negaduck yelled, tired of this whole thing. Somewhere inside he was reeling from the idea that the person he carried was only a "little girl." He hadn't really thought of her that way, and he didn't really want to. She had somehow become more than that, and he didn't want any of it. He was sick of them all, most of all this stupid kid! Rage again took hold and he actually flung the duckling at Darkwing.

Gosalyn went through the air like some kind of deranged football and landed in Darkwing's outstretched arms. Before the hero could even recover himself, Negaduck was on his way out of the room via a nearby window. But even as Darkwing's opposite turned to leave, the weak, somehow painful and yet joyful sound the child made when the hero caught her echoed in Negaduck's ears. He wondered for a moment what it would be like to have someone feel that way about him. Before he could let himself ponder that any longer, Negaduck fled.

Darkwing had not expected a suddenly airborne Gosalyn to come flying at him, but his reflexes were fast and he managed to catch her gently. While Negaduck ran for the nearest window like the coward he was, Darkwing sank to his knees and held his child. Gosalyn's face was turned up to his with eyes that burned green. He rested her head against his chest, settled on his knees, and gently touched her cheek.

"Gos, are you okay, honey?"

"No, I think I'm dying now," she said gently, her eyes frank and unafraid. She took his hand in her own small hands. "I wanted to help you. I wanted you to be proud of me."

"I am proud of you, Gosalyn. Very proud." Darkwing's voice thickened with tears.

"You're a hero. Please keep being a hero, okay?" Gosalyn would have liked nothing more than to live with him forever and be his daughter, but the tugging of the poison made that impossible now. She struggled to wake from the fog that threatened to enclose her. She could feel a shadow creeping over her body, getting deeper and closer every moment. "I've got to stay awake," she told herself. "I've got to be strong for dad. I won't die here like this." Her stubborn side took hold and she forced herself to stay conscious. She might die, but not yet.

"I'll always be your hero, Gos, I promise." Darkwing felt so much better now that she was back in his arms. This is how it was supposed to be, he felt, the two of them together. As her eyes cleared and she seemed easier in her breathing, Darkwing wondered if maybe they could save her after all, if maybe she would live long enough for SHUSH to find an antidote. He could see the glow in the corners of her eyes that spoke to her determination to be strong. But something about her courage also reminded him of his duty. He would have given the world to hold her for hours, but he knew that his job, his responsibility, was elsewhere, was stopping the fleeing Negaduck. It hurt to be so obligated, to have to leave her again, but Darkwing knew now that Gosalyn wanted nothing more than to see her hero fly. His heart was heavy at the thought of leaving her, fragile like a broken crystal, but he closed his eyes and accepted the hero's dilemma.

"Morg," Darkwing called over his shoulder, but the sorceress ignored him. She was still thumbing through the book. Honker trotted over, eyes the size of dinner-plates.

"He's turned into soup, sir," he said in a near-whisper, still in shock that such a thing was possible. "He says it's nice being warm." Then he saw Gosalyn, really saw her for the first time. Honker stared at Gosalyn as if he could never quite look at her enough, and she smiled gently in return.

"I'm sure he does," Darkwing said, allowing himself a small smile as well, even as his fractured heart ached still more. Good old Launchpad. Even if he was soup. "Now," he said seriously, holding the boy's wide eyes with his own, "I'm going to go after Negaduck. I want you to take care of Gosalyn."

"But sir! You can't leave her!"

"It's alright. Gosalyn understands, don't you?" he said, looking at her, his heart filled with so many conflicting emotions. Gosalyn smiled up at him. There was fear in her eyes, but the fear bowed to her own sense of justice, just as Darkwing's had.

"Yep. It's what a hero has to do. Go get the bad guy, dad," she said softly.

"Do you remember where you picked me up?" Darkwing asked Honker, reluctant to leave his daughter's side. The nervous duckling swallowed.

"Y-yes, sir, I think so, that is…"

"All right. As soon as Morgana has Launchpad back to normal, take Gosalyn there. Ask for J. Gander on my orders and he'll know what to do." He looked back at Gosalyn, her face contorted in confusion. "SHUSH is going to try to save you, sweetie. Be brave and hang on for me, okay?"

"I…I'll try," Gosalyn gulped. She wanted her dad to go after Negaduck and stop him, but she was afraid. She knew she was dying, and Gosalyn didn't want to be alone. Honker was a comfort, but he was not her father. Her hand tightened compulsively on his.

"I know, Gos, I know," Darkwing said, forcing himself not to sob over her. He had to make his heart of stone if he was going to manage this. "I know it's hard. But I'll come back to you. I'm trusting you to…to still be here when I get back," and his voice cracked but the stone stayed firm. "I love you forever, my daughter."

"I love you, too, dad," Gosalyn said, then buried her face in her father's chest. He lowered his head and cradled her then, more dearly than he ever would have cradled his own life. She was so much more than life to him. Neither of them wept again, but the shuddering breaths that echoed through both of them spoke volumes of what their hearts couldn't say.

After a moment, Darkwing lifted his head and motioned for Honker to sit beside him. Gently he transferred Gosalyn's head to Honker's skinny knees, wrapping the boy's arms around her so she would be as much off the floor as possible. Gosalyn's eyes never left her father's face. He placed a hand on her head as in benediction, looked at her as though he would never really see anything else again, and abruptly ran from them, throwing himself out the window Negaduck had used, running like the very devil was chasing him. As he caught sight of a fleeing spot of yellow, he ran until his heart felt that it would break.

"No," he thought with pain, "it's already broken."

-==OOO==-

 

As Honker cradled his best friend in his arms, he could not think of a single thing to say to her. How could he express how worried he had been, how scared, how alone he felt without her? And then, how could he begin to tell her what her father already had, to please not die, because he didn't know anymore what his life would be like without her? Gosalyn had followed Darkwing with her eyes until he was out of sight; then she turned to Honker, her eyes startlingly green as always, and quite wet with shed and unshed tears.

"It'll be okay, Gos," Honker found himself saying awkwardly, feeling his glasses slipping down his wet cheek-feathers. "He'll be okay."

"I know," she said softly. Those green eyes met his and Honker's heart skipped a beat. "Just take care of him for me, okay Honk? And Launchpad too. But especially my dad. He'll need someone to love him for a while."

"You'll take care of him yourself, Gos!" Honker said forcefully. He could feel tears crowding his throat. "You'll be okay and things will go back to how they were and we'll play sports again and everything will be okay! Don't give up, Gosalyn, please!"

"I won't," Gosalyn said, smiling to herself. "I promised."

They lapsed into silence then, waiting for whatever came next.


	11. Double or Nothing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here is the last chapter before the epilogue and the end of Part 1 of this story. There is a Part 2 to this saga planned, and it will materialize as soon as I get a couple of other open stories out of the way. (I sorta made a promise to myself not to have more than 5 or 6 unfinished fanfics begun at the same time…)

The slap of blacktop against Negaduck's webbed feet sent jarring pain up through the still-open cut from glass shards that had once held an antidote. Running was sort of a new experience for the yellow-clad villain. Usually he stayed at the scene of the crime to engage in a ruthless, epic battle with Dorkwing. But this time he could only flee. Rooftops vanished beneath his racing feet as he tried to put as much space between himself and that duck behind him. It wasn't Darkwing that Negaduck was trying to escape, it was Gosalyn.

"How can some namby-pamby little squirt do this to me?" he demanded of himself as he took a flying leap from one building to another. "I'm Public Enemy Number One! I'm the worst there is! So why am I running away from her? How can I be scared of a little girl?" He skidded to a halt. This building didn't have any nearby neighbors that were tall enough for him to jump to without killing himself; he would have to climb down to the street.

"Because she scares me," whispered a frighteningly familiar voice in the back of his mind.

"She does not!" he snarled out loud.

"That little girl is braver and stronger than I'll ever be, and I know it," the voice pointed out. It sounded so like his own voice, but with an inflection he chose not to identify. The internal discussion rooted him to the spot in the middle of the exposed rooftop, but Negaduck was too distracted to notice.

"So? Who cares?"

"I hurt her, and I feel bad about it. And since she won't blame me for it, I'm blaming myself."

"And this matters…why exactly?" he rumbled, hating this little voice more and more.

"Because she matters to me. I can deny it, but she matters."

Negaduck swore as loudly as he could, wanting to punch whatever was generating that insignificant conscience he had so skillfully ignored for years. He hated all these random feelings, these worthless things that tugged at him and took away his triumph and his glorious evilness. He hated feeling guilty, hated feeling responsible for the state of the child he had left behind, and hated that he could not get her face out of his mind.

"I hate her!" he shouted to the wind, feeling like the world was descending on his insides all at once. "I hate her! I hate her for dying and I hate her for not hating me! I hate her for liking HIM!"

Negaduck stopped short at what he had shouted. It was true. He hated Gosalyn for caring about Darkwing. What was so special about that purple buffoon that she would keep her words and her eyes for him? Because she had. The whole time he had been alone with her, even as she forgave him, that duckling had saved her real sparkle, her real self for Darkwing alone.

"How could you? How dare you die and leave me stuck with thinking these things and not even be mine? The whole city, everything that matters, everything valuable is mine, but you! You're still Darkwing's, no matter what I do! How dare you!" he screamed, wild with suppressed and completely unfamiliar feelings.

He felt like his sanity was coming apart, not that he'd been particularly sane to begin with. Oh, Negaduck knew greed, knew that feeling of desperately needing to possess things of worth, especially those things that were forbidden or out of reach. But Gosalyn was different. Never before had he been so greedy to have a person, to make someone be his to the exclusion of everyone else. But with people came choices, and Gosalyn would not choose Negaduck. He could hold her in his arms, but he could not make her belong to him. It enraged him.

"I hate you, Gosalyn! You're the one thing I can't steal OR destroy! No matter what I do, I can't take you from Darkwing!"

"You got that right, you twisted jerk!" Darkwing shouted venomously as he landed a perfect web-footed kick in Negaduck's unsuspecting back, sending him sprawling face first on the blacktop of the roof. The hero had caught up to his enemy and crept close without being detected; the yellow-decked villain was too caught up in his own thoughts to perceive Darkwing's approach.

"Hey, aren't the good guys supposed to fight fair?" Negaduck asked, trying desperately to regain control of the situation, not to mention his breathing. A wave of humiliation crashed over him. Darkwing had overheard his rant. The last person in the world Negaduck would have wanted to know anything about his own internal turmoil was the one standing in front of him. Terrific.

"Not anymore, Negaduck. Not anymore," Darkwing said, and there was something very, very dark about his voice. Negaduck took an unconscious step backwards. He had never seen Dipwing act this way before. The purple-clad vigilante had dropped the façade of a glory-seeking nitwit; he looked more like an avenging archangel. For the first time, his evil twin actually believed the masked mallard qualified as a "terror in the night." At a loss for words, Negaduck reached for his gun.

"No, you don't!" Darkwing menaced, launching himself with a speed Negaduck had not anticipated. He kicked the gun away as easily as swatting a fly and turned the kick into a roundhouse kick-punch combination. This time Negaduck didn't fall down, but the double blows hurt.

"All right, duck. I went easy on you there," he wheezed, trying to maintain at least the appearance of aloof and in-control evil, "but now you've made me mad. Bring it on!" And he readied for a hand-to-hand fight.

"Glad to," Darkwing growled. "Let's get dangerous."

 

-==OOO==-

"Ring around the rosies, pocket full of hamburgers, bogey coming in at quarter to a three-o'clock teatime…" Launchpad sang tunelessly, sitting on the floor and holding his head in both hands.

"Well, at least he looks like a duck again," Morgana sighed, exasperated, as she continued to flip through her book.

"Darkwing ducking the draft and finalize the planning for a Thunderquack storm, mass production of little Launchpad action-figures, orders can be mailed to Santa Claus at the North-North East quadrant of the galaxy and Tia has no hair…" the pilot burbled. He couldn't seem to stop talking to himself.

"Can't you do anything for him?" Honker asked impatiently, eyes wide. He was glad to see Launchpad looking less like a bowl of alphabet soup, but a brainless Launchpad was not much better. And they needed the pilot to get well, fast. He was their only hope at getting Gosalyn to SHUSH in time.

"I'm trying!" the sorceress snapped. Then, taking a breath, "Sorry. It's just that, well, think of it this way: when he was soup, his brains kind of swirled around freely in the bowl. Now that he's a duck again, his brains are in whatever configuration there last were in the soup bowl. I'm trying to find a spell to un-stir his brains, as it were. Without causing him to either lose his memory entirely or become some kind of genius. Or a lunatic."

"Oh." Honker couldn't think of anything else to say. He looked back down at Gosalyn, resting in his arms. She smiled faintly.

"Stirred brains…that's funny," she mumbled, and a hacking cough threatened to split her in two.

"Shh. Don't try to talk," Honker warned, fear knotting in his stomach. Though it had only been ten or fifteen minutes since Darkwing had left to chase Negaduck, Gosalyn's energy had been waning significantly since then. He could feel her breathing getting slower and shallower, and when he touched her wrist he noticed how sluggish her heartbeat was. "Save your strength. It won't be much longer now. Okay, Gos?" She nodded slightly and closed her eyes wearily, leaning back against Honker's chest. He turned back to watch the bizarre scene still unfolding.

"Greatest pilot ever named Baloo…balloons for the birthday girl! Happy Halloween-y with extra mustard, please…" Launchpad rambled, looking very proud of himself. "Gaining altitude, crashing into a purple car and a mansion full of gold, oh, what do you do with a drunken sailor and his nephews Huey and Dewey Decimal system, and I don't want to go to school today! Five more minutes until the end of the world, mommy…"

"Okay, let's try this," Morgana said, rolling up her sleeves and taking a deep breath, "Revuelvo mento reordinae memorae saniento!" A fantastic green light flashed and an odd popping sound echoed in the room followed by a rush of air that smelled a bit like wet cement.

"Jimmy cracked corn and I don't care…Oh, wait, I do care! I like corn!" Launchpad said, shaking his head from side to side with a comical expression on his face as sense flooded back into his eyes. "Um…what happened?"

"No time!" Honker said urgently, waving frantically with the arm not trapped under Gosalyn. "We've got to get Gosalyn to SHUSH before it's too late!" Morgana helped Launchpad to his feet as Honker looked back into his best friend's face. "We're going to make it, okay, Gosalyn? It's all going to be okay now, right?"

No response.

"GOSALYN?"

 

-==OOO==-

 

Negaduck gasped for breath and leaned on a low parapet on the roof of the tallest apartment building in town. Although he might be the physical equal of Darkwing, somehow he was outmatched in both energy and prowess tonight. Their epic feud had dragged them over every rooftop in town, ending here, high above the streets. He schooled his beak into a scowl, refusing to let his twin know how badly that last kick had hurt.

"If I had my chainsaw with me…" he threatened, turning to face his nemesis again and bemoaning for the hundredth time that he had left it behind in the police station. The one and only time he forgot his favorite weapon he sure could use it!

"I'd cut out your heart with it, you dastardly, despicable demon," Darkwing replied. Never before in his life, not even when faced with Taurus Bulba, had the masked mallard known such incredible fury and hatred. His energy was limitless, fueled by a desperate and insistent need to punish the duck who had harmed his daughter. He would make Negaduck pay for Gosalyn's suffering.

"Hey, now, isn't that a little violent for a G-rated hero?" Negaduck taunted half-heartedly, looking for options.

"Like I said, Nega-jerk, not anymore."

Negaduck took another step back; he seemed to be doing that a lot. As his cape brushed the low wall just behind him, he experienced a flash of panic. The dark look in his opposite's eyes was honestly murderous. A few things clicked together and he spoke in a rush.

"What are you thinking? You can't kill me! You'll die too!"

"I'm thinking," Darkwing said as he slowly advanced on his adversary, "that getting rid of you is worth it."

"What? No! You're really not the killing type, you know…" Negaduck said, trying to squirm away from Darkwing and thinking at light-speed. What was going on here? Since when did the good guy go all evil? And since when did he become accustomed to fearing his wimp of a double?

"So?" Darkwing asked, neatly cutting off his exit. He pulled back a fist clenched in unsuppressed rage and socked Negaduck in the gut. The yellow-clad villain bent double and wheezed. The masked mallard followed it up with several more satisfying punches before he grabbed the twitching beak in a fierce grip and forced Negaduck to look him in the eye. "I won't let you hurt anyone else ever again. I swear it."

"But…" Negaduck managed around the pain, his beak still caught in Darkwing's hold, "what about Gosalyn?"

"What about her? How dare you even mention her? You did this to her!" Darkwing screamed. His face was blacker than the night and his eyes were wild with the rage he had bound for days, finally let loose on the monster who had hurt his child.

Negaduck, hardly believing what he was about to say, answered the face before his own, nearly pleading, just as Darkwing had pled for Gosalyn not long before. Through the agony inflicted by the throttling he had received, and the sudden freedom of the conscience he could not ignore, his voice sounded more like Darkwing's own than either had ever heard it.

"If you kill me…you'll die…and she'll…be alone. You can't leave her… to die alone… She deserves better...from both of us."

-==OOO==-

 

"No, you can't die!" Honker wailed, tears flowing freely down his feathery cheeks, unbridled panic flooding his small body. As Morgana and the wobbly Launchpad raced to his side, he violently shook the duckling in his arms. She wasn't breathing. Honker touched her throat. No pulse.

"What do we do?" Launchpad demanded, instinctively ripping Gosalyn from Honker's arms and looking about wildly for an answer, or a miracle.

"Put her down, quick!" Honker commanded, his voice stuffed with repressed crying but strong with conviction. Startled, Launchpad obeyed. Honker was nearly mad with fear and pain, but something in him was still thinking, and it refused to give up his best friend without a fight.

"I hope I know what I'm doing," Honker thought to himself. The awkwardness of the situation far from his mind, he firmly sealed his beak against Gosalyn's and breathed, just as he had read about when he was brushing up on CPR some months ago; first-aid was a very useful skill around the Mallard household. He breathed into her again, watching her chest rise from the influx of air. Then he pulled back, straddled her inert body, and positioned the heel of his hands on her sternum, two fingers up from the base of her ribcage.

"One! Two! Three! Four! Five…" he counted aloud, pushing with all his might. Gosalyn had to live! She just had to! After thirty compressions, he returned to her side and blew air into her beak again.

"Come on, Gosalyn!" he nearly screamed as he repositioned to continue the desperate external heartbeat. "Come ON! Wake up!"

"Please, Gosalyn," Launchpad pleaded, his voice breaking. "Please come back, kiddo…"

"Launchpad, Honker…" Morgana began with a deeply regretful voice, a sob caught in her throat. "I don't think there's anything more we can do for…"

"NO! I won't give up on her like that!" the duckling cried defiantly, tears streaking his glasses so badly that he tore them off after the last push at Gosalyn's chest, flinging them aside. He breathed into her again, hearing the agonizing sound of air rushing into empty lungs. Honker's voice was hoarse with emotion but his body had never felt so strong before as he pounded her heart, willing it to beat. "I WON'T give up on you, Gosalyn! I won't! Don't you give up, either! Now, please, WAKE UP!"

 

-==OOO==-

 

Darkwing's heart just about stopped, his hand half-twisting Negaduck's beak in a circle as his enemy gasped in pain.

"Wha—what did you say?"

Negaduck grunted and threw himself out of Darkwing's grasp, pressed himself against the parapet and clung to it to support his weight. His knees were shaking and he could feel a few broken ribs pinch as he tried to catch his breath.

"She deserves better than to die alone. You're her protector, or whatever," he mumbled, not really sure what existed between his twin and Gosalyn. "You're supposed to be the one looking after her. You should be with her at the end." He shuddered inside. Somehow, he didn't want her to die, even though he knew she would.

"You're the one who did this to her!" Darkwing roared, his momentary stun gone. "You're the one who hurt her! She's dying BECAUSE of you!"

"Yeah, well…" Negaduck wheezed, closing his mind to the things that haunted him, "you failed. If you hadn't let me get her, none of this would have happened." It was so much easier to blame his enemy than himself for Gosalyn's death.

"You…" Darkwing stopped, his insults shriveling on his tongue. He felt his fists unclench and fall to his sides, a tremor running through him. For a terrible, terrible moment, he believed his enemy. Before his eyes flashed the parting image of Gosalyn: wheezing, shaken by fever, her body ravaged by an unnamed poison. Unconsciously, he stepped back, his eyes and thoughts turning inward.

"He's right. I should have protected her better. This is all my fault."

The words echoed back and forth in the cavernous space of Darkwing's heart, ricocheting off of old and deep-seated fears and nightmares. A flash of Taurus Bulba's sneering face shot through the shadow, the memories of a dozen situations where Gosalyn's life had been on the line because of her association with Darkwing, floated and reflected, adding to each other and ending in a sense of crushing guilt. Darkwing had suffered from low self-esteem for years, but when it came to his daughter, the blame he laid on himself was enough to eradicate any remaining feelings of worth. He was the lowest of the low. He had failed her.

Negaduck watched his twin react to his words, a little amused at how quickly the furious face could turn so…remorseful. It would have been laughable, and indeed, Negaduck almost chuckled, until he realized that the emotion so clearly displayed on Darkwing's face was deep and strong in his own withered heart. Brushing the feeling aside as best he could with such little experience, he awkwardly broke the silence.

"Look, why don't you just go back to her now? Okay? We'll finish this some other time."

"No," Darkwing said, sorrow coloring his voice but his beak set as he met Negaduck's eyes. "We finish this now. You're right. I let her down. But you're to blame, too, and you will be punished."

"Hey, now…" Negaduck said, putting his hands up in a conciliatory way and feeling the parapet against the backs of his knees. "You…you don't want to do something stupid, do you?"

"No, but I'm going to make sure you get what you deserve."

Negaduck felt fear, honest and cold, run through him. Darkwing advanced, his hands set and his eyes narrow, more decisive than he had been all night. The yellow-clad villain looked almost wildly for a means of escape, and, finding nothing, felt panic surge in his chest.

"Stay back! Don't come any closer!" he demanded, hoping he sounded threatening, instead of threatened.

"You're coming with me, Negaduck, and this time, you won't get away from me. I'm going to put you somewhere that you can't break out of, somewhere you won't hurt anyone else ever again."

"No…no," Negaduck mumbled, eyes widening at the certainty of Darkwing's actions. He tried to lean even farther back, put whatever inches he could between himself and the vigilante before him, and found himself losing his balance. With a screech of unrestrained terror, Negaduck went plummeting off the roof.

Darkwing lunged forward, trying to grab Negaduck before it was too late. He couldn't take him to jail if he fell twenty stories down! But fatigue and nerves, and perhaps a deep sense that he deserved pain for his failure, left Darkwing as fumble-footed as his double. His hand closed upon empty air as Negaduck fell beyond his reach; then, his own center of balance betrayed him and Darkwing followed his enemy and twin from the high rooftop.

They trickled through the sky like twin shooting stars, arcing gracefully and inevitably towards the ground, Negaduck shrieking in fury and terror, and Darkwing in utter silence. Then there was nothing but darkness.

-==OOO==-

 

Darkwing's eyes opened slowly. All he could see in front of him was a bright whiteness. He felt numb, as though his body were no longer a part of him.

"Am I dead?" he wondered wildly. "Again?"

"No, just on a good many painkillers," came a wry voice. Darkwing was unaware that he had spoken aloud. Realizing he still had a head, he turned it towards the sound and saw J. Gander Hooter standing on his right. The SHUSH director was at the edge of what looked like a hospital bed, watching him carefully around the various sensors that were plugged to the hero's body. Seeing the sticky pads with wires leading back various machines, Darkwing felt their presence among his feathers for the first time. They itched.

"What happened?" Darkwing asked, the fuzz starting to clear from his mind. He wanted to scratch, especially the little sensor that was on his right arm. It was pulling his feathers strangely. But his arms were held in restraints, probably to prevent that very reaction.

"You and Negaduck both fell from the rooftop. You're quite lucky to be alive, actually. We found you lying on an eighth-floor balcony, in a potted plant no less, and brought you here to recover. We felt this would be better for your secret identity than if we took you to a hospital," J. Gander said, nodding his head significantly towards the injured hero's face. Darkwing squinted, trying to look up and down at his own forehead and cheeks, and felt a familiar cloth brush his temples; yes, his mask was still on and in one piece. Not that it really mattered; of all people outside his own family, he would have chosen to trust the tiny, brilliant SHUSH agent before him.

"But…" his brain fought to remember something terribly important, something besides itchy sensors on his skin. Then it all snapped back into place. "Gosalyn! Where is she? Is she…?" he asked in breathless panic. He couldn't bear to finish the question.

"Look for yourself," Hooter replied, gesturing to the left. His voice was soft, and betrayed nothing. Darkwing swung his head around too fast and discovered that he had a concussion the hard way: he made himself dizzy with the sudden movement. His eyes swam and colors melted into blurry spots, like a paint-box that has run. He closed them and tried again.

Next to his bed, on the other side of the various devices plugged into his anatomy, were still more machines, hulking grey and silver monoliths that gleamed in the hospital light. Beyond them, on a bed just like his own, lay Gosalyn. He could see that she had had a mask over her face and a tube down her throat to help her breathe, and she too was covered with little sensors. There were also two IVs that stretched into each arm, one of a clear-colored fluid, and the other a bag of deep amber liquid. The breathing machine wheezed and snuffled, and Darkwing could see his daughter's chest rise and fall.

"She's alive," J. Gander said with a touch of a worry, moving into Darkwing's line of vision without cutting off his view of the child, "but it was a very near thing. Some of her organs actually shut down, and if not for her little friend Honker, she would have died. His quick thinking and knowledge of CPR probably saved her life. Our doctors can't really explain how her body could take such damage from that horrid poison and yet continue to function, but somehow her heart started again and they brought her here. Sara Bellum was able to extract what she needed from the sample you provided to replicate the antidote, and it appears to be working. However…"

"What? What is it?" Darkwing demanded as J. Gander paused, an uncertain note in his voice, Panic filled him as the masked mallard leaned as far as the bed, sensors, restraints, and newly-discovered cast on his leg would allow. What more could happen to her? Was something else wrong? The idea that Gosalyn's heart had actually stopped froze his own blood in his veins. Thank goodness for Honker!

"Well, Darkwing, you must understand that she's very young to have been so severely ill. That poison was acting rather like an acid, eating away at some of her organs and muscles. Most of the damage will repair itself over time, but we can't be sure that there won't be any lasting consequences. The doctors conjecture that she will recover to lead a normal life, but there may be some long-term problems because of this. We'll do the best we can, of course," he hurriedly assured the hero. Darkwing let out a breath both of relief and pain.

"As long as she's alive, nothing else really matters, I guess. And we'll just have to deal with it when it comes. But she will be okay?" he pressed. J. Gander Hooter absently pushed up his glasses and stole a look at the young girl before turning back to Darkwing. The affection in the hero's voice was touching, even to an old SHUSH campaigner.

"She'll be all right, Darkwing," he confirmed in a reassuring tone. "Now you get some rest. You're not that healthy yourself just now, you know. Fractured leg in two places, concussion, broken ribs, not to mention more bruises and scrapes than some people ever get in their lives. You really are lucky you landed on something relatively soft!"

"Doesn't feel like it was very soft," Darkwing grumbled, settling himself down in the hospital bed with his head still turned to where he could see Gosalyn.

"Nonetheless you need rest as much as she does right now. Don't worry; we've got doctors monitoring her around the clock, and of course, you're right here with her if she needs you for anything." J. Gander moved to the door, feeling a bit like a mother hen. The buzz and beep of the various equipment in the room created a low, ambient echo though the space, but the SHUSH director was still able to catch Darkwing's words as the hero closed his eyes and surrendered to sleep. They were whispered, meant only for his daughter's ears, and warm with emotion.

"'I'll be near to chase away fear, so sleep now and dream 'til tomorrow.' I'll always be near you, Gosalyn. I promise. You're safe now."

As J. Gander Hooter stepped out into the hall and shut the door behind him, he reflected on the pair recovering side by side. When the duckling Gosalyn had been brought to SHUSH by Launchpad and a strange woman and child, the agency's director had grilled them as sharply as he thought they could handle while the dying duckling was rushed to the medics. Between them, these other friends of Darkwing had told the story of the past few days, and especially of the bond between Gosalyn and her father. Secret identities aside, J. Gander knew that when he was looking at Darkwing and Gosalyn, he was looking at a family of enormous affection and love.

"Remarkable," he thought to himself. "It's almost as though these two live for each other, and are therefore willing to risk anything for the other. How many children would tempt death for a parent? And how many parents would risk themselves so drastically for the sake of a child?" As he ambled towards his office where a mountain of paperwork waited, the agent smiled to himself.

"Peas in a pod, those two, Gosalyn just like her father. And I suspect you can't have one without the other; where one goes, the other always will be near. No matter the danger, no matter the pain, nothing will ever separate that pair. Even death could not divide them."


	12. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you've enjoyed the story. This is the first full-length fic I've ever written. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!

"And here comes the pitch…SLAM…ladies and gentlemen she has done it again! Gosalyn Mallard has hit her third home run of the inning!" Gosalyn shouted at the top of her lungs as she raced around the home-made bases in the backyard. Honker set off to chase the ball again, and Gosalyn felt a moment's pity for him. He wasn't such a bad pitcher, not if you didn't mind everybody getting a hit on every throw, anyway.

"Gos! Time to come in!" Drake shouted from the doorway, Launchpad at his side.

"Aw, Dad! Just one more? Please?" Gosalyn begged, turning her green eyes on him imploringly. Drake melted at that look, as always, and nodded, smiling. The duckling squealed and returned to home plate, waiting for Honker to recover the ball from somewhere in his own backyard. Before he got the next and last pitch off, she tried to correct his technique.

Watching his daughter, Drake felt his heart thump. Running, smiling, happy Gosalyn was there before his eyes, and yet not quite the same child she had been before. He shifted his weight awkwardly, trying to get comfortable on the crutches that had kept him homebound since their return from SHUSH.

"She's not really well yet, is she, DW?" Launchpad asked quietly. His voice was hopeful, but Drake knew he was not expecting an affirmative answer.

"No, not really. J. Gander said that her body will take a long, long time to get back to what it was," Drake sighed. It hurt to see her play, even though it was a marked improvement in her health.

"But she…she will be okay, won't she?" Launchpad asked anxiously.

"I think so, LP," Drake answered uncertainly. It was a question he asked himself every day.

In the month since father and daughter had gotten out of the SHUSH hospital, though she was certainly not back to herself yet, Gosalyn had showed remarkable progress in regaining strength and health. But there was a change in her, too, invisible wounds that would probably leave lasting scars. Some of it was obvious: her thinness, the way she wheezed when she ran, how easily she tired, the less than lightning-quick reflexes. But some of the change was more subtle, and all of it was based on fear. Gosalyn was subdued most of the time, not her usual rambunctious self. She stayed close to home, even when she was feeling alright, trusting herself only to the company of Honker or her family, instead of hanging with the rest of her friends. And most notably, the once fearless duckling refused to walk to or from school without her father or Launchpad at her side, and even then, she preferred being safe in the car instead of on the street. Nobody could blame her for being afraid. Looking at it all together, Drake could only ache as she attempted to overcome her fears, one by one.

Gosalyn finished coaching Honker and, to their combined credit, she only hit the ball into the tree instead of over the fence. When she moved to climb up and get it, before either Drake or Launchpad could get a webbed foot out the door, Honker was already there, pulling her back and ascending the trunk himself.

"That's another change," Drake thought to himself, "Honker treats her differently. I guess he never thought he could lose her, and he doesn't want to risk it again." The parent in him smiled. "I suppose there are worse boys that could have fallen for my girl, but I don't think Gosalyn's noticed yet. Well, I think I'll let them figure this one out on their own."

It wasn't just Honker who treated Gosalyn as though she were made of glass. Launchpad had become gentleness itself around the red-headed duckling, and even Morgana went out of her way on the child's behalf. Drake, overprotective as always, was the best sick-nurse Gosalyn could ever want, comforting her when she was afraid or hurting, cheering her when she was despondent, and of course, granting her every desire as best he could with a broken leg.

But on the other hand, he also challenged her as never before. Something about the way Darkwing had said goodbye to Gosalyn in the police station, something about understanding that they were both heroes, had given Drake a newfound respect for his spunky daughter. He was tender and attentive, but he tempered his coddling with a new kind of encouragement, not just for her to get well, but for her to reach her true potential. When Gosalyn had been bedridden, Drake had brought her his past cases and sat with her for hours, teaching her how to solve them as he had. As she regained her strength, he began encouraging her to improve on her bow and arrow, and to tinker with other useful gadgets, lending help or an extra hand to hold a part as she explored the world of mechanics. And as soon as Gosalyn showed just a bit more returning endurance, he intended to enroll her in a Quack Fu course.

"Why are you doing all this, Dad?" Gosalyn had asked when he had told her about the martial-arts class the night before as he tucked her in bed. "I mean, I love all the crime stuff, and my bow and arrows are way better, but I thought you didn't want me to…"

"No, Gos, I didn't. You're right. I didn't want you to get hurt. I thought that if I kept you out of crime-fighting that I could protect you. But I was wrong," and he turned away, tears threatening his eyes. "You were still in danger because of me."

"Dad…" Gosalyn reached a hand and touched her father's arm. A moment of silence passed, and a world of guilt and pain and forgiveness hung silently in the room. Drake fiddled with the crutches leaning on the bed beside him, then swallowed a lump in his throat. He turned back to his daughter's lovingly concerned face, dismissing his own demons from his eyes.

"So I want you to be able to protect yourself. I want you to know what you need to know in case anything ever…happens to you again. And besides," and his smile was all pride and love, "you really do have the heart of a hero in you, Gosalyn Mallard. You're still too young to save the city all by yourself, but there's no reason you can't start learning the trade now. You're going to be an amazing hero, my girl, and I want to see that happen."

Drake's reminiscing was suddenly cut short by a child snuggling carefully into his arms. Behind Gosalyn, Honker stood, shyly holding the baseball he had painstakingly retrieved from the tree.

"Hey, Dad, I was thinking, since I hit three home-runs today, do you think we could go to Hamburger Hippo for dinner? Please?" Gosalyn begged, turning her green eyes to her father once more. She had learned how to hug Drake without either tipping him over or bumping his cast, and as she had gotten stronger, had taken every opportunity to hug and be held by him. There was nowhere else in the world like being inside her father's embrace.

"Oh, sure, why not?" Drake said, smiling down at her, holding her tightly. "Right after you take your meds, honey." He waved inside at a pre-arranged pile of pills and fluids that were the daily regimen prescribed by SHUSH to eradicate the poison from her system and repair its effects.

"Aw, Dad!" Gosalyn muttered, smiling anyway and cuddling close. While she hated the mountain of medication that seemed to follow her morning, noon, and night, her father's tacit understanding of her returning strength was building her confidence. It was true that her body wasn't quite reacting as it should, but the duckling trusted that with her father to take care of her, she would get well again. Steadily, under his love and watchful care, Gosalyn was starting to feel like herself again, not just physically, but emotionally as well. He had never let her down, not even this last time, and Gosalyn's faith in him was absolute. He had promised she would be okay and he had been right. She had promised to be brave for his sake, and she had succeeded. No weakness of her body, and no fears that chilled her heart, could defeat the comforting knowledge that both she and her father had survived their ordeal for each other.

As everyone piled into the family car for Hamburger Hippo, the un-masked mallard turned to look at Gosalyn in the back seat. Thin, tired, and strained from the recent slew of medication she had choked down, Drake knew that his daughter was still the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in his life. No rescued jewel, valuable painting, or damsel in distress could ever come close to the abject beauty he saw in Gosalyn. She noticed him looking at her and gazed back. Gosalyn smiled her whole heart at her father, and he returned the expression, no words needed between them. They both knew without a shadow of a doubt that they were safe in each other. That together, they could conquer anything. That the love of a father to his daughter, and her love in return, was what life is all about.

 

-==OOO==-

 

Negaduck stomped into the familiarly dirty house on Avian Way. He banged the door shut with his one good arm and cursed the fall that had broken the other. At least he had evaded the cops who had swarmed the area right after the fight. It was really only by accident that he had discovered another portal to the Negaverse. He had thrown himself into it without a second thought, but standing at the bottom of the stairs of a hated house in the suburbs, his husk of a heart gave a lurch.

"Welcome home, Negaduck, sir," said a politely gentle voice from the top of the stairs. Looking down at him with a cautiously cheerful expression was a vision in pink ruffles and curls. She skipped down the steps and curtsied before him. "I made sure the house was extra dirty for you this time. I hope you like it, sir." Suddenly she noticed the bandaged arm and the bruises visible even through the mask and costume. "Oh, my, you're hurt! Here, let me help you, if you like, that is, sir."

Negaduck reached his good arm out tentatively, unsure why he was even bothering. He could still walk out right now and never look back.

He could go back to the Normalverse and forget it had ever happened.

He could blow this house, and its occupant, into next week with a stash of dynamite and pretend it had never existed.

He laid his hand on her head.

"Sir?" she asked, turning brilliant green eyes up to his face. Her gaze was guileless and innocent, and she seemed possessed of an eternal optimism and gentleness that was nearly overwhelming. The child stood still under his touch, confused, but respectfully and politely quiet.

Negaduck closed his eyes. Instead of the healthy child before him, he remembered a dying one, thin and wasted, yet defiant to the last and filled with a strength of spirit and will that he had seen in few others. But even as that image danced in his mind, he somehow knew beyond knowing that she was not dead. Something told him that she had survived even his worst, that she would not be wasted for long. Opening his eyes again, he saw not the girl beneath his hand, but another, the stronger, more vibrant version from the Normalverse, well again and infinitely compelling. Somehow, he knew he could never see anyone else again, not the same way he had seen her. He opened his bloody beak and spoke, more to himself than to the girl before him, his voice rough with pain and exhaustion, but markedly hungry with unsuppressed desire for that which floated in his mind.

"Gosalyn."

"Sir?"

"It's not over. You'll be mine. Mine."

"What do you mean, Negaduck, sir?"

"Mine," he said again, taking his hand from her head. He waved her away and the delicate child ran to the kitchen, chattering about bandages and disinfectant. Negaduck wasn't listening; there was only one Gosalyn worth paying any attention to now, one who was alive and would stay alive, he just knew it. As he settled in the worn couch, he looked at the little girl who came rushing back, her arms filled with medical supplies. If he squinted, he saw a different child, and that obsessive need returned, ravenous and insistent.

"Gosalyn, you will be mine."


End file.
